


Love Sick

by Rabbitafy



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1214398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabbitafy/pseuds/Rabbitafy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After losing consciousness in the woods, Marshall Lee wakes up to find himself attached to Prince Gumball… literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> -There will be a few references to the Fionna and Cake comics made in this. I suggest you read them (you can find them for free on Tumblr), they are VERY good.

“Get out of my apples, you thief!”

Laughing as he clenched a pile of juicy red fruit in his arms, Marshall Lee Abadeer hovered above the ground, zooming through the air. Behind him, a small yellow creature with a long nose chased after him, grumbling and shouting.

There was no way Tree Trunks would catch up to him. Even if the guy didn’t have stubby legs, he was getting old and slow. These chases had been a weekly occurrence for some time and each time his opponent seemed to get slower.

Ceasing his hurry as he went into the neighboring trees – the little dude usually gave up around then – the Vampire King began the leisurely stroll back toward his home. The sun had just finished lowering and he had the entire night to enjoy. Shopping had seemed like a boring venture, so he’d settled on swiping some apples and calling it a trip.

The journey back was easy, but long. Usually he took the time to go around the creepy woods outside of Tree Trunk’s orchard, but considering the fact that Lumpy Space Prince was hosting a wicked party in a few hours, the dark-haired man decided to toss out the idea and just make his way through the forest.

Careful not to drop his meal, Marshall began to float along the ground, dodging the thick trees with ease. He thought about flying above them, but he’d never been fond of going too high. For some reason it seemed to put pressure on his ears and it wasn’t really a pleasant feeling.

He could feel eyes watching him, but he brushed it off as squirrels or cats or something. The ancient man was pretty sure that the rumors about this place were absolute beef and people were just pansies. What could be so scary about a place full of trees? It wasn’t like the objects themselves could reach out and-

_Ouch!_

Gasping, Marshall spun around, crystal blue eyes wide with surprise. Something had _bitten_ him! His lower back stung, his racing heart doing nothing to help the sudden ache.

With a groan of frustration, the young man turned toward his destination once more.

He hit the ground moments later, apples spilling all around him.

* * *

In all honesty, the Candy Kingdom Prince wasn’t quite sure what the big deal was. From what he understood, Marshall Lee spent tons of time alone and yet Fionna seemed extremely flustered about the whole thing, practically throwing a fit in his lab as she paced back and forth.

“He was supposed to show up!” She screamed, arms in the air as he and her best friend, a feline named Cake, watched her groan in frustration. “We set this day like, two _weeks_ ago! But nope, _nothing_! So I called LSP and he tells me Mar bailed on _him_ too! What’s with this, Peej!?” With a deafening growl, the blonde suddenly whirled on the Prince, who jumped in surprise. “This is totally unlike him!”

“…It is?” Bubba inquired, only to cringe at the glare he received. “Alright, alright… I’ll call around and ask if anyone has seen him.”

“You’re globbing _right_ you will!” The teenager shrieked. She was acting crazier than normal… it must have been those female hormones or whatever. Girls were weird and he hated dealing with them, save for the adventuress.

“I’ll let you know if I find something,” he mumbled, just to get her out of the lab. Truth be told, he intended to call perhaps one or two people before deeming the Vampire a useless, lazy bastard who abandoned his friends. Math, if he didn’t care so much about Fionna, he would have just done that anyways.

Before his best friend could yell at him some more, Cake grabbed hold of her and pulled her from the room, screaming. Yep, it was definitely those girl hormones. Icky.

With an annoyed noise, the Candy Prince picked back up where he’d left off, trying desperately to discover a way to stop sugar from melting in water. Truth be told, it was an idea he’d defaulted back to several times in his long life, yet every time it ended up a failed experiment and eventually the man would scrap all of his notes, deeming it impossible.

After several hours of very little progress, he finally flopped into his seat in defeat. Hoping to distract from the impending failure, Bubba pulled up his phone and dialed the number of the most random person he could think of, knowing there was no possible way he could have seen Marshall.

Several moments later, he sighed heavily as Tree Trunks cried, “Yes! That little butter ball stormed my house and stole some of my apples!”

Great. So he _had_ seen the snarky Vampire King. “When did this happen, Tree Trunks?”

“Three days ago!” The yellow being declared, before starting off on a frustrated rant. The Prince only halfway listened until the other man cried, “Then he disappeared into that creepy forest!”

Oh. Well, at least that was something. For all the pink-haired man knew, Marshall had tripped and bumped his head on a rock and died. Oh, if only such a thing were possible… “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

Hanging up on the other man mid-sentence, Bubba dialed up Fionna, only to frown as Cake answered with,

“What is it, Your Highness? Now isn’t really a good time.”

“I have news about Marshall,” He informed, wondering what was so important that it took away from Fionna’s attention. Something to do with her stupid boyfriend, probably.

“Look, you’re going to have to look into it yourself,” Cake informed, sounding flustered. Somewhere beyond her, the Prince could hear Fionna cry out something about needing chocolate and how painful her cramps were. With a heavy sigh, the feline breathed, “It’s just not happening right now.”

Gasping as he was hung up on rather unceremoniously, the pink-haired man glanced down at his phone with his mouth open. “…Honestly!” Darn women and their monthly issues!

Tempted to simply return to his research, Bubba gave a heavy sigh. He knew that if something happened to Marshall and he’d ignored it, Fionna would take her current mood and multiply it but an unnamable number. For some strange reason she was fond of the lazy fool and he knew he needed to look for him.

With an annoyed noise, the candy Prince cleaned himself off and changed into more suitable clothing, before exiting to his balcony and calling for his faithful friend, Lord Monochromicorn, (usually just called Mo-Chro).

It was a short trip to Tree Trunk’s house. From there, he asked his companion to fly low, but it was nearly impossible to peer into the forest, the tree tops too thick. With a frustrated sigh, Bubba asked the stallion to land and slipped from his back.

It was probably best to enter from the place that the snarky King had, though it was nearly impossible to tell which section he’d gone into without asking Tree Trunks. Deciding to take the chance of failure rather than listen to several minutes of rambling (as he couldn’t exactly hang up on and in-person conversation), the candy-haired man entered the line of trees.

Honestly, who did Marshall think he was? Knowing him, he’d probably been hiding out in here on purpose, waiting to see if someone would come and find him. The idea of him missing in the woods was a preposterous one and Bubba was about ready to turn around and give up when he spotted it.

A display of apples appeared to be spilled all around a still form, red flannel shirt and black skinny jeans giving away just who it was instantly. His heart jumping into his throat, Bubba sprang forward, stumbling to his knees and shoving his way around the ring of fruit that surrounded the other man.

Pink sugar arms reached out and lifted the vampire’s head, cradling him against his chest. Instantly, his gut twisted as he saw the other’s pale face, an even lighter shade of grey-blue then it should have been. His normally warm skin (due to his demon blood) was icy and his breathing was labored.

“Marshall?” Bubba called, giving him a gentle shake. If Tree Trunks had seen him three _days_ ago… had he been out in the woods this entire time? Was he unconscious for the duration, just lying there in the dirt? “Marshall, wake up… please!”

A small, meek noise left the Vampire and the Prince felt his stomach twist a second time. With his youthful face wiped free of that snarky smirk, Marshall Lee looked like a child, soft features smudged with grime.

Deciding not to linger on it any longer, the Prince shrugged off his jacket and covered the other man as best he could, before scooping up his practically weightless form and carrying him to the edge of the forest.

Mo-Chro stamped out a message of concern as his friend climbed onto his back, cradling the Vampire King against himself, trying to shield him from the sunlight as much as possible.

The trip back to his palace seemed to take an achingly long time and he clung to the man against his chest, listening to his labored breath with a tight stomach. As another small groan left the pale form, he nearly choked, lowering his face even closer to the other’s to assure himself the older man was still breathing.

As soon as his steed landed, Bubba was climbing from his back and rushing the still Vampire King inside, laying him out on his bed. From there he turned, intent on calling for a doctor, only to stop suddenly as the dark-haired man let out a loud gasp of pain, fingers reaching up to grasp at his chest, above his heart.

“Marshall!?” The Prince cried, turning back toward the other and grasping his shoulders. To his surprise, the older man’s pain stopped almost instantly, his unconscious body relaxing. One more attempt proved a repeat situation – pulling away, even an inch, caused the Vampire to shriek in pain – and his skin against the other’s was the only thing that seemed to ease it.

Swallowing, the sugar-skinned man let his shoulders fall. He couldn’t begin to imagine what was going on, but it seemed that somehow Marshall had been cursed… for some reason he needed the touch of someone else, or he’d feel extreme agony.

With a heavy sigh, Bubba scooped the other into his arms and took a seat on the bed. Carefully slipping out of his shoes he sat back, resting the Vampire King against his chest. He couldn’t, in good faith, just walk away and let the shorter man scream. Unlike the dark-haired king he actually had a _heart_ and despite the fact that he thought the younger looking man was a waste of space, even he didn’t deserve that.

And so, leaning back against his headboard, the bubblegum-haired man decided to just relax and wait it out. He doubted that Marshall could sleep much longer and if he did, he’d just haul him toward Fionna’s to see if she had any ideas.

Because if anyone could figure out something like this, it was the blonde-haired adventuress.

* * *

The suddenness in which Marshall Lee awoke made Bubba jump, violet eyes snapping down to the older man’s alarmed form. He’d been deep in thought, trying desperately to come up with any sort of solution to the situation at hand. He would have to keep at the other’s side at all times, so figuring out what kind of spell could have put them in their current predicament was going to be very difficult.

Blue eyes glanced around in alarm, before finally resting on him. Seeming appalled, the Vampire jerked away, letting out a hiss of surprise.

“Marshall, wait-!” The Prince cried as his opposite stumbled out of the bed, breaking their contact.

Almost instantaneously, the dark-haired form let out a loud shriek of pain, reaching up to grasp his chest as if in intense agony. As quickly as he could, the younger sprang forward, pulling the other against him.

Body tense, but no longer shaking, Marshall attempted to gather his breath for a moment before he wheezed, “…What the beef was _that_?”

“As unpleasant as this is going to seem,” Bubba breathed, a sour look crossing his features at the very sound of the other’s voice. “It appears somehow you’ve caught something. And now, for some glob-sent reason… you have to constantly be touching someone or risk your heart racing in pain.”

“…You’re not joking, are you?” Came the small response, so meek that the Prince found himself surprised. Could words that soft really come out of such an uncivilized person? When he earned no response, the King let out a strained sigh. “…Oh grod, this is really happening, isn’t it?”

“As if I would choose touch you, even in jest, Marshall Lee,” The younger man scoffed, unable to resist the urge to roll his eyes. The only answer he received was a small noise of distain. “Now that you’re awake we can visit Fionna to see if she has any idea how to fix this.”

“What, do you think Fi is your magical fixing machine?” The dark-haired man asked in distaste as his opposite pulled away, grasping his hand in a tight hold. “She doesn’t know everything.”

With an annoyed glance, Bubba glared down at the shorter man. “But she certainly knows more then _you_.”

With a mutter of, _I doubt it_ , Marshall hovered after him as the Prince slipped his shoes back on and started for the door, their hands clenched tightly. “Wait!” He cried suddenly, ceasing their movement with a strong tug that nearly pulled the younger off his feet, earning a glare. A sour expression crossed his pasty face before he snapped, “What? I’m trying to help you out!”

“By keeping me here with you?” Came the sneered response.

Scoffing, the older roughly shoved the pink-haired man’s hand away, only to wince and quickly grab it again, cursing under his breath. “No, you _snob_ ,” He snapped. “By making your huge head stop and _think_ for a minute.” Violet eyes narrowed, but he didn’t give the younger man time to speak. “What are your subjects going to think if they see us walking through the halls, holding hands?”

A solemn look crossed Bubba’s face as he realized that, for once, the snarky King was right. No doubt his subjects _would_ think it odd and rumors would spread all around the Kingdom – and possibly beyond – like wildfire.

“What do you purpose we do, then?” He inquired, trying his best not to spit out the words like a bad taste. It apparently didn’t work, however, as blue eyes glared at him in response.

“Either you call that globbing eel to pick us up,” Marshall stated, – instantly ignoring the cries of, _he’s not an eel, he’s a horse!_ – before tossing his hair from his face with his free hand. “Or I carry you out of here. Your choice.”

Well, this was between a rock and a hard place, the Prince was certain of it. On one hand, Mo-Chro would no doubt ask questions and he didn’t really have many ways to answer them, but on the other hand Marshall wasn’t exactly discreet with his giant bat form.

A thought occurred to him, then, and he spared a glance out the window. A frown crossed his lips. “It’s not really a choice, is it?” He ignored the raised black eyebrow on the other’s features. “You can’t fly in the sunlight.”

“What?” Seeming dumbstruck for a moment, the vampire turned his gaze toward the window. “Oh. Well, I’ve done it once for you already, so…”

Instantly, Bubba’s cheeks flushed and a sour look crossed his features. Oh, honestly-! They promised to never talk about the flan or the whole fiasco with Flame Prince. Not that the older was known for keeping promises. Trying to change the subject, the candy man tugged his opposite toward the closet, pulling him inside.

“What in Gob’s name are you doing?” Marshall asked as the younger man began to shift through some clothes one-handed. He frowned in annoyance as he was ignored, reaching out to poke at the back of the other’s neck. When that didn’t work, he tried a few more times, before speeding up and rapidly continuing. “Pay attention to me! I’m still here, you know!”

“Oh, trust me, I _know_ ,” came the irritated response. Before the dark-haired man could answer, his companion plucked something out of the row of clothes and held it up, nodding. With one graceful motion, he pushed it into the other’s arms. “Put this on.”

Seeming surprised, the vampire glanced down at the wine-colored sweatshirt in his arms. “What?”

“Put it on,” Bubba repeated, almost coldly. As blue eyes stared at him blankly, he gave an extravagant sigh and rolled his own. “How else are you supposed to go out in the sun, you dolt?”

“Uh… an umbrella?” Came the snarky response as Marshall gave an annoyed look toward the shirt, which looked massive against his small frame, making the Prince feel a bit of pride. “Or do you not have those? Oh, right, you call them _parasols,_ right? Because you’re _fancy_.”

Resisting the urge to scoff and tell the other man how immature he was, the younger straightened up his body and held his head high. “And what do you think would happen to a _parasol_ if you were to ride on Mo-Chro?” He allowed himself to feel victorious at the blank look that crossed the other man’s face. “That’s right. The wind would cause it to fold inside-out. So stop being so frustrating and just _put on the shirt_.”

The Vampire curled back his upper lip for a moment, revealing his long fangs. After realizing his defeat, however, he allowed the taller man to rest a hand on his hip (noting that the touch worked to stop the pain, even though his clothes) and shrugged the massive shirt over his arms, before doing up the coat, making note of the cupcake charm on the zipper.

“…Are you serious?” Marshall asked as the sweatshirt slid off one shoulder. He’d never before realized how much broader and taller the Prince was in compared to him and truth be told it left him feeling a little dismayed, a frown on his pale features.

“If any of your suggestions are as good as your umbrella one, then we’ll never get out of here,” Bubba responded, reaching up with his free hand to pull the hood over the other’s head. He then tightened the strings to pull it further over the dark-haired man’s face. “Try to keep your hands in the sleeves.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem,” The Vampire huffed as his companion grabbed his upper arm and dragged him toward the balcony. The sleeves dangled over his hands as if the shirt were meant for a giant, the bottom of it dangling halfway down his thighs.

With a frustrated groan, the shorter man allowed himself to be pulled into the sun, keeping his head down to block out the sunlight. Bubba wasn’t being the least bit patient, calling upon Mo-Chro and climbing onto his back without even a second to spare, barely remembering to hold onto Marshall as he dragged the older up by one arm and plopped him down behind him.


	2. Real butterballs, boys

Cake looked rather flustered as she first opened the door, her dark eyes aglow with frustration. It was apparent she was dealing with a rather bad case of Fionna’s icky thing… from what they’d heard, the blonde haired girl got especially whiny during these few days.

Her expression turned to one of shock after a moment, however, as her gaze lowered toward the pair of hands that grasped each other uncomfortably. Both boys were glancing in opposite directions, looking very unhappy, but the feline didn’t seem to notice as she motioned them inside.

“Fionna!” She shrieked like an impatient mother, earning a screamed _what!?_ in response. Eyeing the two men as they followed her up the long ladder into the kitchen, still holding onto each other, Cake called again. “You’re going to want to see this, honey cakes!”

A groan echoed from the bedroom. Moments later Fionna came out, a furious look upon her peachy face as she declared, “This had better be important, Cake, or so help me-” Marshall let out a hefty sigh as the blonde stared openly at them for a few moments, mouth agape. Then, suddenly, her lips broke into a grin and she threw her arms into the air. “I _knew_ it!”

“W-what!?” Bubba declared in horror. In his alarm he released the vampire’s hand, holding his own up in defense as if being assaulted by the very notion that _he_ could ever come to hold hands with the other by _will_. He realized his mistake almost immediately, however, as the older man let out a shriek of pain and gripped his chest, clear eyes turning black and teeth baring.

“Marshall!” The human girl cried in alarm, reacting before the candy Prince could think. She jumped forward and grabbed hold of his shoulders, her blue eyes wide and panicked.

For a few moments, the sugary man stood there in a stunned confusion, watching as his best friend shook the dark-haired man, screaming at Cake to call someone, _anyone_ to help him. Then the realization of the situation slammed into him like a brick wall and he reached out, tearing the older man from her arms and pulling him into his.

He never would have thought he would hear Marshall Lee whimper, but as he cradled the other’s small frame against himself he heard the smallest hint of one fall from pale lips, his entire body shaking from pain.

“…What the math is going on here?” Fionna whispered, obviously thrown completely off by what had just happened. “Mar, you… and PG… what?”

“We were actually hoping that you could help us figure this out,” Bubba admitted, not allowing himself to wonder why he had the urge to pet Marshall’s hair. “Because honestly, I’m at a complete loss.”

“ _That’s_ a surprise,” The vampire snickered against his chest.

Scoffing in response, the Prince had to physically restrain himself from pushing the man away. “I was under the impression that he had to be touching someone to not be in pain, but… it appears that…”

“It has to be _you_ ,” The human girl finished. He didn’t miss the smirk that crossed her face. “That sounds like real butterballs, boys.” For a few moments, the blonde stood there, before she threw up an arm. “Well! It was nice seeing you. Buh-bye!”

“W-what!? Fionna!” Bubba cried in alarm as she placed a hand on Marshall’s back and pushed them both toward the ladder down. “What in Ooo-!?”

“This is a great time for you guys to bond!” The girl declared with a toothy grin. “You know… get to _know_ each other.” As the candy Prince let out an exasperated gasp, he caught her smile turning into a serious look. “Or at least stand to be around each other.”

With one last push, she shoved them down the ladder. In shock, Bubba tumbled backwards and grabbed hold of whatever he could – which happened to be the body pressed against him. His eyes snapped shut and he tensed, anticipating the impact that would no doubt hurt, only to find after several moments that no such thing happened.

A violet gaze opened and lifted toward the form above him, staring down at him with a smirk. He was clinging tightly to Marshall Lee, who was floating just below the top of the ladder, one fine eyebrow cocked and pearly fangs glimmering in the room’s dim lighting. His arms were wrapped around the younger man as if he were weightless, shorter legs wrapped under the bent knees of the Prince.

“Did you think I’d let you fall?” The vampire asked, his voice smooth and smug. Everything about it made Bubba want to punch that smirk off of his features, but instead he settled for a glare. Laughing heavily, the older man dropped them both to the ground and pulled away, grasping their hands together before any pain could be had. “Yeah, well… whatever.”

With a frustrated huff, Bubba reached up and grabbed hold of the other’s hood, pulling it back on over his head. “I guess we have some things to talk about.”

“What-?” Confused and flustered, the dark-haired man pulled the hood back off and frowned. “What do we have to talk about? And what are you putting my hood up for? Where are we going?”

“Are you really that dense?” The Prince snapped, inwardly enjoying the sour look he received in response. “First, we are going back to the palace as I don’t want to stand in Fionna’s front room talking to you. Not that I’d want to be _anywhere_ talking with you.” That earned a glare, which filled his inner self with even more happiness. “And second… if we’re going to be stuck like this, we’re going to have to discuss living arrangements, sleeping schedules…”

Marshall looked shocked for a moment, before his lips turned down. “Wait… living arrangements? Like… ugh, we have to _live_ together?!”

Soaking in these moments like a warm honey bath, the younger man held his head high. “Honestly, Marshall Lee… it’s like you’ve become less intelligent over the years.” This caused a shocked expression, before a look of… was that hurt? Deciding to ignore it, he went on. “We don’t have any clue how long we’re going to be stuck like this, so _yes_ , we may need to live together. Now if you don’t mind, I’d really like to talk about this-”

“Cake, it globbing _hurts_!” Came a shriek from above.

“-elsewhere,” Bubba finished, glancing up the ladder with a disgusted face.

Falling silent, the vampire pulled the hood up over his face once more and allowed himself to be tugged back onto Mo-Chro, his stomach in knots.

 _Living_ with the candy Prince? He knew he would lose the battle of houses. The younger man had a kingdom to run and he couldn’t exactly take a vacation from it, especially since they had no idea how long this whole thing would last. But the idea of performing simple daily tasks with the man at his side – _holding his hand!_ – made him want to vomit.

Man, how awkward were showers going to be…?

* * *

By the time they arrived back at Bubba’s room, the sun was setting. Thank glob for small miracles, Marshall supposed, though an accidental slip of his hand shot pain straight through his body again as he stumbled off of Mo-Chro’s back.

He was getting really sick of winding up cradled in the Prince’s arms, especially since this time the pink-haired man was carrying him inside bride-style, shoulders tense and a frown on his features. He said something to Mo-Chro, but the vampire missed it, his focus going in and out.

By the time he managed to get his wits about him he was lying on the bed, the sweatshirt gone and his shoes removed. A frown crossed his features as the candy Prince sat on the end of the bed, one hand on his ankle as he spoke quietly to Peppermint maid.

“Please, do your best to explain to them,” The sugar-skinned man was whispering as she frowned. “That this isn’t my choice. It’s just something I have to do right now.”

“But your highness…” The woman whispered, shooting a glance to the supposedly sleeping man. “Won’t he…”

“I won’t let him be destructive,” The regal man replied with confidence. “I can handle him.”

…Handle him? Marshall felt himself fume inwardly. Oh, so Bubba thought he could _handle_ him? Resisting the urge to sneer, he promised to make the younger regret those words.

After some time the candy maid left and the Prince sighed dramatically, casting a glance toward the vampire as if his very presence was nothing more than a burden. He looked exhausted and from the dark sky outside, the older man found himself wondering what time it was. Obviously the other was tired and he had no doubt that it was time for him to sleep, but he seemed chained to the bed, unable to slip into his night clothes and get comfortable.

It was nearly impossible to hold back a smirk.

Although he wasn’t able to drift back off, the dark-haired man allowed himself to lie still, even as the younger man shifted around and sighed dramatically every few moments. He took a deep joy every time the exasperated sound left his companion, knowing the stuck up snob was getting what he deserved.

Eventually Bubba grew tired of their situation, however, and decided to make something of it. He slipped his arms under Marshall’s knees and neck, hauling the vampire up like he weighed nothing. Unable to hold back his gasp of surprise, the King reached out and wrapped his arms around the other’s neck as the feeling of being lifted startled him.

Violet eyes wide, the younger man stared down at him for a moment before an annoyed look painted across his handsome features. “You’ve been awake this whole time, haven’t you?”

“If I said yes, would you drop me?” Came the smaller man’s response as he smirked. He’d been caught, but the fuming look on that pink sugar face was totally worth it.

“I would,” The Prince assured.

Laughing, Marshall unwrapped his arms, as if daring the tall man to let go of him. “Then yes.” He had no doubt the other wouldn’t let him go. Bubba was one of those bleeding heart types… the kind that wouldn’t cause pain to people. It was in his sugary nature and honestly, it was a little bit boring.

It seemed as if the pink man was struggling with the idea for a few moments, before he gave a frustrated noise and turned, carrying the other toward his closet. With one very rough hand he grabbed hold of one of the other’s pale wrists and shoved the rest of him away, before beginning to sort through his night clothing.

“Beef man, you could be a little more gentle,” The King scoffed as he was treated gruffly, a bitter frown on his face. “Lighten up, okay? This isn’t the end of Ooo for glob’s sake.”

“Perhaps it doesn’t feel that way to _you_ ,” Came the response from the younger as he tugged out a long sleeve night shirt. “But you’re not the one that has to live with yourself.”

“Uh… I live with myself everyday, Bubs.”

A sour look crossed the Prince’s face. “Well, it’s no surprise you’re so uncivilized, then.”

Whistling out a lazy response as if it didn’t bother him, Marshall turned his face away as the other looked for his clothes. He tried to push away the stinging that the words had caused, telling himself that the other’s opinion didn’t matter. Bubba was a stuck up sugar-face with a bad attitude and no sense of fun. He was good at acting sweet toward his Kingdom and Fionna, but he didn’t bother to put forward the façade when the vampire was around.

Why? He didn’t know. He had no idea what he’d done to earn such disrespect, but it didn’t really matter now. The fact was he was going to have to deal with it until they got this thing sorted out.

The candy man forced him to look away as he slipped into his night clothes (despite Marshall’s insistence that he didn’t want to look, even if he could) before he dragged the man to the bed and climbed in.

“Wait-” The older called as his reluctant companion made to roll over, their hands still clenched. The glare he received in response was enough to chill anyone to the bone, which left him glad that he couldn’t feel things like temperature. “What if you let go of my hand during the night or something?”

Bubba seemed to contemplate that for a few moments, before he gave an annoyed sigh and rolled onto his other side. “Honestly…” He mumbled under his breath before reaching out. In a quick movement, he grabbed hold of the alarmed dark-haired man and pulled him against his chest, keeping him close and in place. “There. Better?”

“Uh… yeah,” Marshall offered, trying desperately to contain the heat that was rising to his cheeks. The other’s form against him was strong and comforting… he smelled of sugar and bubblegum, which was pleasant and strangely not overwhelming against his senses, despite their close proximity. He wasn’t really used to having strong arms wrapped around him, but it felt… well, it felt nice.

He liked it and he hated the fact that he liked it.

The Candy Prince was asleep almost instantly, but as a generally nocturnal being the older man was left lying awake. Worse yet, he couldn’t leave, let alone _move_ (as doing so would risk waking up the other). So the only thing he could really do was think and even that seemed undoable, his mind distracted by the body next to him.

Why did Bubba have to feel so nice? He was such a jerk, he really didn’t deserve to be this comforting. Yet for some reason he felt like lying there was the safest thing for him…

It had to be this weird spell thing. That was definitely it. It was making him cling to the one thing that kept him protected and free from pain. Because there was no way that the sour gumdrop of a Prince was actually this soothing under all that spice.

 **No** way.

* * *

When Bubba awoke, the sun was high in the sky. Within moments the memories of the day before flooded him and he sighed, sparing a glance down to the form hidden beneath the blankets, curled up against his chest. An irritated sigh left his lips and with a frustrated movement he reached to climb out of bed, intent on dragging Marshall with him.

“Wait!”

Letting out an exasperated noise, the Prince turned to glare down at the pile in his bed that most certainly should _not_ have been there. “What!?”

“The curtains are open,” Came the almost pathetic reminder as the older man clung to his arm like a leech. “If I go out there I’ll burn.”

“And if you stay in there you’ll scream,” The candy-haired man reminded with a sour tone. “I can’t close the curtains without leaving the bed. It’s the lesser of two evils, Marshall Lee.”

“What, you can’t just call your stupid maid to come close them!?” The form beneath his covers shouted, voice full of anger.

Bubba had just about _had_ it. With his free hand he reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I’m not going to call her to my room _just_ to close my globing curtains, Marshall! Just… cover yourself with the blankets or something!”

“Your blankets are as heavy as a ton of rotten marshmallow!” The older snapped. “And they smell like it too!”

“Marshmallows don’t _rot_ , _Marshall_!”

“Then explain your attitude, _Bubba_!”

“Oh for glob’s sake!” The Prince cried, jerking his hand out from the blanket. He ignored the shriek of pain that followed as he reached over and snapped the curtain shut, before going around the bed and doing the same on the other side. With one elegant movement, he then pulled the heavy comforter off of his companion and grabbed hold of his arm as the pale man clung to himself. “There. Are you satisfied?!”

“Warn a guy next time you’re going to stab him in the heart!” The vampire shrieked, his fangs prolonged and his eyes dark. His long fingers had extended in to claws as he gripped at his chest, his body curled into a tight ball. “Beef, Gummy! I think I would have preferred the sun!”

Rolling his eyes, the younger man ignored the display of dramatics as he tugged the other out of bed and toward the closet. “Since you passed out last night before we could talk about it, we need to sit down and discuss what we’re going to do about this.”

“What can we really do?” Marshall sighed, allowing himself to be pulled as his feet hovered off the floor. “Obviously you have to stay here. I’m fine with it, I just need to grab some of my stuff.” The glance he received pulled a sour one from him. “What, do you want me to hang out in these clothes for the next… whatever amount of time? I need to change my clothes at some point, Gumbutt.”

“Don’t call me that,” Bubba groaned, turning back to his closet as he removed a white button-up and a whine pull-over. “I suppose you do need your own clothes. I don’t want you wearing mine and getting them all sweaty.”

“I’m a vampire, dude. I don’t sweat.”

“Really? Then explain your smell.”

Grabbing the front of his shirt, the Vampire tugged it over his nose and inhaled deep. Immediately a smell hit him and he gagged. “Aw, beef! I smell like wet grass and dirt!”

“You don’t need to tell me,” Came the Prince’s disgusted reply, his expression one of distaste as he took in the vampire. “Yes… I think a trip to your home is in order.”

“And a good shower,” The older scoffed, tempted to strip his shirt off and burn it. He instantly caught the horrified look that crossed the other man’s face, which prompted a smirk on his own. “Oh, right… you and the water thing. Oh, this is going to be _fun_.”

“Marshall _Lee_!” Gripping the other’s pale wrist in his hand, the candy man gaped openly at him. “Water can _kill_ me!”

A smug expression painted on his features, Marshall reminded, “An sunlight can kill me, but you were ready to toss me into it earlier so you didn’t have to get your maid’s panties in a bunch.”

“Ugh, how distasteful can you be!?”

“I guess you’ll find out, won’t you?”


	3. Go ahead, I DARE you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few moments of very light violence in this chapter, so be warned.

Bubba was reluctant to hand over the sweat-shirt once more to the Vampire, who now openly admitted to his foul odor, but after a bit of convincing he admitted that taking Marshall out in the sunlight was a bad choice – especially considering the fact that it may cause unwanted attention from on-lookers.

And so he handed over his beloved lazy-day clothing and promised to burn it later as they mounted Mo-Chro and began the journey to Marshall’s cave.

Almost as soon as they arrived the pale man was ripping the sweat-shirt from himself, tossing it to the ground in a heap. He didn’t offer a moment for the Prince to gasp in shock as he tugged him toward the house and unlocked the front door with a key that was somehow stuck in the pocket of his much-too-tight pants.

To the pink-skinned man, the worst thing about his reluctant companion’s house was that there was nothing to dislike about it. It was clean, well-kept, and just about the only thing out of place was the fluffy white cat that came running up as they entered the front door.

“Schwabl!” The older cried in excitement, bending down to scoop the feline up with one arm. A meow left the creature as he hugged it against his chest, seeming almost… pacified by its presence for a few moments before he remembered where he was and turned toward his captive. “Schwabs, meet your new roommate.”

Aghast at the idea, the sugar-skinned younger threw a hand across his chest, mouth open. “Excuse me!?”

“Hey man,” Marshall Lee growled, his tone threatening as he released the cat and leaned in, pressing one long-nailed finger against a broad chest, his clear blue eyes intense. “I am _not_ leaving my cat behind. You know how Fi is with her kitty? That’s how I am with mine. So back _off_.”

Bubba was a bit taken aback by the intensity for a moment, before he allowed himself to frown and straighten up his shoulders, holding his head high. “I don’t think you’re really in the position to be making the decisions, Marshall Lee!”

For a moment the Vampire stared at him openly, seeming dumbstruck by the words. Then, slowly, a smirk crawled over his lips. “Oh, so the perfect Prince has a wicked side, doesn’t he?” He held up his wrist, where the younger man was gripping him. “Tell me, bub-a-wubs, what happens if I pull my hand away?”

With a roll of his violet eyes – perhaps to mask the fact that he’d been called out on his rough choice of words – the Prince declared, “It causes you pain.”

“Right,” The pale man agreed, a malicious look in his eyes. “It causes me pain.” He leaned in close, his face inches away from the pink-skinned man’s. “Now I _dare_ you to tell me I can’t have my cat, Gum _butt_.”

That sadistic-! … _Ugh_! Grinding his teeth, the taller man cursed his companion under his breath. Leave it to Marshall to get under his skin by using his kindness against him. Of course he wasn’t going to tell the other he couldn’t have his cat if the older was threatening to harm himself just to see the globbing thing every day. He couldn’t imagine why… it’s fur was knotted and it smelled like rotten flesh. Not even candy flesh!

Obviously aware of his win, the vampire King laughed and grabbed his companion around the waist, hauling him into his arms. As Bubba gasped, the older lifted off of the ground and made the short trip up to his bedroom before unceremoniously dropping his captive onto the floor. From there he grabbed hold of the pink-skinned man’s arm and dragged him toward the closet.

“You could stand to be a touch more gentle!” The Prince declared at the mistreatment, ignorant to the fact that he had done the same at his own residence.

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with touching me, Your _Majesty_ ,” Came the snickered response, which earned a huff of distaste. Ignoring the dramatic man after these words, Marshall tugged open his closet doors and grabbed a bag, before beginning to stuff some jeans into it.

“…Do you have any _normal_ pants?” The younger asked, eyeing the various shades of denim that were being pushed with no care into the sack.

“What’s wrong with these?” His reluctant companion asked, quirking one fine dark eyebrow as he glanced down at the bright red pair he held in his hands.

Feeling as if he were speaking to a slow child, Bubba let out a strained sigh. “Are you aware that _all_ of your pants are several sizes too small?”

Seeming offended, the Vampire shoved the clothing in his hands into his bag and glared with crystal eyes. “They fit just fine, thank you.”

The Prince decided not to grace that with an answer, instead taking a glance around the room. He noted a few things on the wall, but none of them peaked any interest – mostly paintings really of various things – and in all honesty, the entire place seemed a bit… well, boring.

He’d expected some sort of dark rock-themed bedroom with black walls and posters of Ooo’s underground metal bands. But the only thing about the room that really screamed “Marshall Lee” was his axe guitar sitting in the corner.

Then he spotted it. Originally his eyes had passed over the object leaning against the wall, thinking it unimportant… but upon second glance he realized exactly what it was.

Folded up and delicately placed next to the bed was a mint colored umbrella, the top coated with white frosting and a large red cherry. He could remember when he’d handed it to the Vampire after they’d given Fionna the sword they’d worked so hard on making her… Why did Marshall still have it? It was a meaningless umbrella, probably no different from the thousands of other ones he had lying around and doubtfully as good since it was a ‘parasol’, not made to keep out the sun the way the other really needed.

Bubba didn’t have much time to ponder this however as the older declared, “All done!” Before dragging him toward the bathroom.

“W-what!?” The Prince shrieked in surprise, eyes going wide as he was tugged through the open door and toward the large bathtub. “Marshall _Lee_ , I am not going to bathe with you!”

“Oh, don’t be such a sour gumdrop,” Came the laughed response. Leaning in to flick on the water, the pale man pulled the curtain tight and changed the settings from tub to shower. “Like I’d want you to anyways, bub-a-wub. Here.” With one fluid flick of his wrist he tossed a rubber glove into the taller man’s face, startling him. “You won’t even have to get wet.”

Just as the candy-man was about to complain, a pale finger was pressed against his lips, silencing him.

“Do you really want to put up with me smelling like a wet sock?” Marshall dead-panned.

There was really no arguing against that. Letting out a frustrated sigh, the younger man turned his back as his reluctant companion stripped, feeling extremely embarrassed about the whole thing. It was one thing to be in the same room as a naked man, it was another to be _holding his hand_. His stomach twisted and he hated himself for having the smallest bit of an urge to turn and look, which he squashed down quickly.

The entire thing was uncomfortable, the vampire moving around as he scrubbed himself with Bubba sitting outside the curtain, holding his hand around it. Water droplets kept getting on his skin but he tried not to let it bother him, however eventually frustration won and he let out a deep huff of, “Will you hurry up!?”

“What, you don’t like how long I’m taking?” The older scoffed in annoyance, poking his head out from behind the white bath drape. “Does it bother you, your _majesty_?”

“Yes, it does!” The sugar-skinned man responded, meeting those narrowed blue eyes with a glare of his own.

Long fangs were bared then as the dark-haired man sneered. “Oh, I’m _so_ sorry. Here, let me bow to your every perfect demand!” Just as the taller was about to raise his voice an octave louder – as if doing so would win him the argument – Marshall grabbed hold of his upper arm and _pulled_ , heaving the candy-haired man partway into the shower.

Alarm bells went off as water sprayed all over his back and Bubba struggled to remember to hold on to his companion as he scrambled out of the spray, his breathing panicked. He could hear Marshall laughing to himself as if the possibility of death were amusing, but the Prince’s brain was clouded as he felt the water soak in, melting off layers of skin one by one.

“Oh come on,” The vampire chuckled. “It’s not like it hurts. It’s just a little sugar. It’ll grow back… or something. Right? I assume it does, anyway…”

As the terror settled, anger replaced it, filling the taller man to the brim. His shocked features twisted into ones of range and almost instantly the pale man went white, blue eyes wide with fear. He didn’t have a moment to think as a gloved hand rested on his chest for a few moments, before pushing him away, the loss of contact immediately shooting shards of pain throughout his body.

The scream that echoed around the bathtub was a satisfying one. The taller stood, pulling the curtains shut as the King sank to the bottom of the tub, curling around himself and gripping his chest. For several long moments he listened to the wailing, before his sympathetic side finally gave in and he reached in, turning off the water.

The other was shaking like a wounded animal as Bubba reached in and grabbed hold of his arm, hauling him from the porcelain. It was impossible to tell from the wetness of the older’s body but he could have sworn he saw tears in clear blue eyes, which brought him a sense of deep satisfaction.

No words were exchanged, even as Marshall stopped shaking enough to get dressed in clean clothes (struggling with those globbing tight pants) and run a comb through his towel-dried hair. The demon inside of him had been pacified and as he grabbed his bag, the Prince took another glance at the umbrella against the wall and felt a flood of guilt fill his senses.

“…I’m sorry,” He offered. It was a painful thing to choke out and it felt like glass leaving his lips, but he knew it had to be said. Despite how rude he’d been, the Vampire hadn’t deserved _pain_. It wasn’t to be used as a punishment and he regretted doing so.

“Yeah,” Came the meek response. “Me too.”

* * *

The ride back had been uneventful, Marshall cloaked in a black cape and a forward-facing baseball cap, Schwabl clinging to his chest awkwardly. From there they’d dropped the cat into Bubba’s bedroom with the promise of the balcony doors being closed (“She’ll fall right off the edge and just keep going,” the Vampire had told him.) and an explanation of the lack of a food bowl (“She’s undead, she doesn’t eat anything. _Obviously._ ”) before they sauntered off to the library, where the Prince had gathered as many books as he could carry.

“Thankfully, I have the day off,” He sighed as he took a seat on a plush sofa, the other flopping down beside him with a hand on his shoulder. “So I can spend it researching whatever is going on here. I can only hope I find the answer… I don’t want to be stuck like this longer than necessary.”

“That makes two of us,” The older mumbled, eyes elsewhere. He’d been entirely too quiet since the trip to his house and the lack of enthusiasm or teasing left the pink-skinned man with a twist in his gut. Who knew a little pain could turn the King into such a… kitten? Hadn’t he been ready to inflict the same thing on himself? So why was it so numbing?

Deciding not to let it bother him, the tall man straightened his shoulders and plopped open the first book. It was a thick novel that declared all sorts of magical curses involving captivity. He was certain it would be in this one, but in the off chance it wasn’t he had had six more books just as thick.

A cover to cover thorough read discovered his hunch to be incorrect, however, which proved to be frustrating. With a heavy lump in his throat, the sugary man shrugged open the second book… then the next, and the next, and the next. Finally, as the last pages of the last book left him clueless, Bubba let out a frustrated groan and snapped it shut, before tossing it into the pile.

For a moment he let himself sit there, calming down, his head resting on the back of the sofa. Violet eyes were clenched shut as a delicate hand reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, as if the action would help him relax. Slow, steady breaths were forced from his lips as he tried desperately not to scream.

Nothing? _Nothing_? He’d exhausted all of the angles he could think of! Potions the idiot might have had, berries he might have eaten, spells some passing wizard may have cast on him, smells he may have passed by… and yet there was _nothing_! It was just so _infuriating!_

Popping his eyes open, the Prince turned, intent on telling his companion of his horrible failure. He was alarmed to find the Vampire gone from his side for a moment, before he realized there was a gentle pressure on his leg and his gaze drifted downward.

At some point Marshall must have passed out, laying his head across the younger man’s lap. He was fast asleep, curled up on the sofa like an exhausted child with his form pressed against his captor’s. His breathing was even and his face looked so peaceful, which was extremely irritating. How could someone so rude look so… sweet?

With a huff, Bubba reached out and grabbed the other’s shoulder, shaking it lightly. “Marshall Lee,” He addressed, watching as the other popped one eye open and glanced up at him. “It’s time to get up. We haven’t eaten yet and we’ve been in here for nearly half the day.”

“What?” Came the dumbstruck response, before the vampire gave a sigh of defeat. He grabbed hold of the offered hand and removed himself from the sofa, dragging behind as his captor returned the novels to their appropriate locations and headed toward the kitchens.

The Prince had to admit, without the snotty commentary, Marshall’s company was… well, somewhat boring. The man barely said anything as an apple was shoved into his hands, not even complaining as his reluctant companion went about baking himself a pot pie for lunch. In fact, the candy-haired man was starting to think this meek silence thing was going to be a constant until he nearly tripped over a ball of white fluff sitting in the middle of his floor.

“Mow.”

Startled, the tall man nearly dropped his baking sheet, gazing down at the vampire’s cat. Dead eyes (literally) were staring up at him blankly, white fur more knotted then not. After a moment of shock he let himself grow irritated, turning toward his companion. “What is your cat doing in my kitchen?”

For the first time since their encounter at the shower, the older man’s face grew into a smirk. He let out a hearty laugh and reached down with a free hand, scooping up the feline. “What, afraid her fur will get into your rice?”

“This isn’t rice-!” The taller man cried, aghast at the idea. His featured twisted into annoyance as he bellowed, “Do you even know what rice is!?” At the shrug he earned, his eyes rolled. Feeling extremely irritated, the younger pushed his pot pie into the oven and kicked it closed with one delicately placed foot. “You fool. And as it is, her fur won’t get _anywhere_ with how knotted it is. Have you ever brushed it?”

“Brushed it?” The King inquired, looking down at Schwabl. One eyebrow quirked as he lifted the cat up by her neck so their faces were level. “Well… no, I can’t say I have.”

Staring at the other, as if shocked by how much of an imbecile he was being, Bubba slowly lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose again. “Oh, for frosting’s sake… Marshall, you have to _brush_ a long haired cat or their hair will get knotted!”

“What?” Marshall called smoothly, plopping his pet back onto the floor. “How do you know? I haven’t seen _you_ around any cats! Except, you know, Fionna’s kitty or whatever, but I doubt you brush her.”

“You frustrating-!” The Prince started, before he forced himself to calm down by taking a deep breath. “It’s common sense. Your hair has to be brushed or it will become knotted, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then don’t you think hers does, too?”

Looking a bit dumb-struck, the vampire glanced down at his pet as she trotted out of the room. “Huh… I guess I never looked at it like that.”

With a sigh of frustration, Bubba went about cleaning up his kitchen. “Honestly… now you’re going to have to cut out all of those knots. Which is going to take up _my_ time. Use your brain next time, you wet noodle!”

“Sorry to waste your precious _time_ ,” Came the scoffed response as the older was dragged around, his face twisted in irritation. He chomped down into his apple and set about ignoring the other man for the rest of their time spent in the room, choosing instead to stare at the clock on the wall while his companion ate.

When finished, the Prince handed over a pair of scissors and together they hunted down the white feline. It wasn’t difficult to find her, however – she’d made the candy-man’s bed her own, curled up on his pillow fast asleep. As he scoffed in distaste, the pale man pounced on her and shoved her into his reluctant companion’s arms. “Hold her!”

“What!?” The taller gasped, gripping the feline as the older went at her with the scissors. “Marshall _Lee_!”

“I can’t hold and cut at the same time!” Came the snapped response as Schwabl started to struggle. “Beef, man! Hold her still! She’s got sharp claws!”

“She isn’t _my_ cat so this shouldn’t be _my_ problem!”

“Hey, it was your suggestions so deal with it, Bubbs!”

Huffing in frustration, the younger man tried his best to hold on to the other’s cat while keeping their knees pressed together. He grasped hold of her against his chest, seated on the bed with his legs crossed in front of him. Marshall was on his knees, coming at the struggling white ball from above with the scissors, his mouth pressed to one side.

Finally, after what felt like hours, they released the cat and allowed her to run from the room in a fury. With a relieved sigh, the vampire flopped back on the bed into the pile of cat fur, which flew around him like a white cloud.

“Honestly, Marshall!” Bubba cried, grasping onto his arm and pulling him up. “Now I have to have my sheets washed and dried! Couldn’t you have taken her outside to do this?”

Blue eyes met his, an annoyed look deep in them. “It’s still _sunny_.”

“So put on a _jacket_ ,” Came the sneered response. “Learn to adapt! Oh wait, I forgot… you’re too _lazy_. You’d rather just sulk in your cave until moonlight comes and then party all night!” He threw a hand into the air, his face turning away. He couldn’t stand looking at the other’s young features any longer. “Ugh, of all the immature, sloppy, disgusting people I could have gotten stuck with it had to be _you_!”

Silence followed his words and for a tiny moment the younger man almost felt bad for saying them. However that feeling passed as he glanced over and found the older man’s eyes closed, his breathing even.

…Had he fallen _asleep_!? Letting out a frustrated noise, the Prince gathered up a clump of cat hair and threw it on the man’s face, only to scream in irritation as it only caused the other to roll onto his side, his back toward him, foot resting against one of the younger’s bent knees. Feeling rage fill him to the brim, the sugary man pinched the bridge of his nose for what felt like the millionth time that day and tried to calm himself down.

With his back to the irritated royal, Marshall kept his eyes shut, allowing himself to feign sleep as he pushed back his feelings. He tried to remind himself that Bubba’s opinions weren’t important, that he was just a self-righteous rotten marshmallow with gumdrops for brains. It didn’t matter that the other man hated him. It didn’t bother him one bit.

…But try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.


	4. A fellow royal

“Okay, man… I get that you’ve got this fear of water and all but seriously, if I don’t get something to brush my teeth with I will go _crazy_.”

Making a sour face, Bubba tried his best to ignore the vampire floating behind him as the man went on, obviously doing his best to get on his nerves. They’d dressed in their usual way – backs turned while hands gripped wherever was convenient – and the Prince had gone about his morning ritual of a honey treatment for his mouth and a shaping of his hair into its correct position.

The older man, however, hadn’t stopped talking. He was repeating himself now, as if saying something more than once could make his point more valid.

“What if I get grape juice poured on me? That stuff _stains,_ Bubbs. Your _skin_. Like… woah. I’m going to need to shower. I can’t bathe in _honey._ And I certainly can’t brush my teeth in it! They’ll rot! A vampire with rotten teeth… can you picture that?”

Letting out a frustrated groan, the candy-haired man finally threw his arms up in a very unbecoming fashion, before he turned his gaze toward his reluctant complain. “ _Honestly_! I get it, for the love of glob! We have a guest room here that has running… _water_.” He spat the word like a bad taste. “You can use that in case you spill _grape juice_ on yourself.”

Grinning as if he’d won a small war, Marshall didn’t bother to offer a thank you, instead turning to look at his lack of a reflection in the other’s bathroom mirror. “You know, you should really do something more with your hair. I mean, you’ve got all this great gum to work with, but you just stick it up the same way every day. Don’t you think that’s a little… boring?”

Turning his lips to once side, the taller man finished straightening his collar. “I don’t see _you_ changing your hair, Marshall Lee.”

“Oh, I do. You just never bothered to notice. I was around you once when half my head was shaved. You didn’t say anything.”

With an annoyed huff, the Prince turned away from the mirror and started toward the bathroom’s exit. “I have royal duties to attend to today-”

“Who said I was done in here?” The vampire cut in, stopping him in his tracks.

Blowing air from his nose, Bubba spared a frustrated glance in his direction. “I thought you said you didn’t need to use honey for anything!”

A smug grin crossed the older man’s features. “Well maybe I want to stare at my reflection, huh?”

An un-Princely cry of aggravation left the taller’s lips. “Honestly, Marshall Lee! Do you live to annoy me!?”

“Maybe I annoy you to live?”

“Just… ugh!” A hand reached up to pinch the bridge of a sugary nose as the younger man tried to relax. He managed to gather his wits about him and gave a rough tug on the other’s arm. “As I was _saying_ … I have a number of duties to perform today and unfortunately you’re going to have to attend.” He didn’t miss the displeased look that crossed his captive’s face. “I like it about as much as you do, Marshall… in fact, even _less_. But it has to be this way. Now come along.”

“And if I don’t want to?” Came the dared response as Marshall cocked one hip to the side and rested his hand upon it. His face broke into a smirk as the taller man fumed. “You’ll do what, hm? Let go of me? Make me _scream_ like you did in the bathroom?”

Grinding his teeth together, Bubba felt anger fill him. While he understood what he’d done to the vampire King was wrong… he didn’t like that it was being used against him like some sort of weapon. That was a mistake and he’d already apologized for it. How dare the other man bring it up!

To his relief – or perhaps further annoyance, he wasn’t quite sure – the other gave a dramatic sigh and reached up to flip his hair out of his eyes. “Well, I suppose if I _have_ to, I can help you out here. I mean… out of the goodness of my heart and all.”

Forced to physically restrain himself from telling the shorter man that he _had_ no heart, the Prince did not grace him with a response, instead starting for the door once more.

Although they’d been warned, the workers of the Candy Palace cowered in fear as he passed by, the Vampire trailing behind him. A few of the banana guards cried out in alarm, attempting to approach only to be stopped by a raised hand as the Prince sighed in frustration.

“What’s first on our list, your _Majesty_?” Marshall asked, his annoying voice like poison to Bubba’s ears. He _hated_ when the other man called him that… Majesty was a name for a King and he was a Prince, therefore ‘Highness’ would have been the correct term. But he was relatively certain the other man was misspeaking simply to get under his skin, so he didn’t let it be known that it bothered him so much.

“A trip to the Candy Kingdom orphanage, to spend some time with the orphans,” The Prince informed, holding his head high as the older man straightened his black cap and pulled his sweat-shirts hood over his head. “Try not to scare them too much… they’re only children.”

He could feel, rather than see, the way the other rolled his eyes. “ _Right_ ,” came the scoffed response. “Don’t scare them. Got it.”

Fully aware that things weren’t going to be that easy, the younger man straightened his collar and slipped out into the sun, his reluctant companion trailing after him like an unwanted misshaped balloon. Refusing to hold the other’s hand, the taller man kept a constant grasp on one pale wrist, doing so as if the contact burned.

The orphans ran toward the door as he entered, cheering in excitement. As soon as they laid their sweet little eyes on the man hovering in behind him, however, their looks turned to terror and they bolted for the opposite direction, crying in fear.

“Wait-!” Bubba declared, reaching for the slowest one – a little candy corn - and scooping her up against himself. She shrieked, struggling to get away, her charcoal gaze upon Marshall, who had his own turned to one side, an unreadable expression painted over his pale face. “N-No, it’s okay!” The younger man tried to assure as she broke out of his hold, but the children continued to sob and run, hiding beneath furniture.

After a few moments of heated frustration, the Prince deemed the situation unsolvable – kids weren’t exactly easy to reason with – and stormed out, his shoulders tense and his teeth grinding. Marshall followed behind him, trying to imagine himself invisible as candy people openly stared at him in fear.

“You’re ruining everything!” The younger man declared, whirling on his captive with fists clenched. For a few moments he openly glared, before he gathered his wits about him and held his head high, trying to stay poised in front of his subjects. There were so many things he wanted to say – so many curses he wanted to spew – but he held back, ignoring the way the older man shrank beneath his hat like a wounded animal.

“Your Highness!” Someone shouted, catching the attention of both of the men. As they turned, a banana guard came rushing up, spear at the ready, a startled look on his face. “I’ll protect you!” The man declared, using his large body to push the Prince aside as he swung his weapon loosely at the vampire.

It was a pathetic attempt, really – Marshall was far too fast to be caught by such a sloppy attack… but sadly, with his wrist clamped down on, he wasn’t fast enough to completely avoid it. Instead of his skin, his hat was caught by the tip, yanking from his head and pulling his hood along with it.

The sun hit him instantly, shooting a burning pain through his head and all over his face. Shrieking, the dark-haired man cringed away from it, throwing up one arm in an attempt to cover himself up. The few seconds it took for him to realize that this was ineffective were painfully slow. Instinct kicked in, telling him to _hide_!

Bubba let out a gasp as the older man jerked his wrist away, trying to bolt for a nearby shaded area. The effort proved pointless, however, only serving to cause his companion a second wave of intense pain that seemed to immobilize him, bringing him to his knees.

“Marshall!” The candy-haired man wheezed, leaping into action as soon as the realization hit him. Within seconds his body was covering the shaking one that was sliding to the ground, burning like flint in a fire. He tried his best to shade his captive as he pulled a lean chest against his upper legs, shooting a glare toward his stunned guard.

It seemed the vampire was still panicking, however – who could blame him, really, considering how much pain he was in? – because his body began to jerk, bones cracking as his form twisted around and became smaller. The Prince gasped as the short man’s skin gave way to fur and a pair of thin wings sprouted from a shrinking back. Before he could comprehend what was really happening, Marshall’s small bat-like form crawled up beneath his sweater vest and quivered, as if his tiny frame were sobbing.

Stunned for a moments, the younger man allowed the shock to float about him before the realization sunk in. A sour expression crossed his features as he scooped down to grasp the fallen cap and moved for a shaded area, his stomach tight as tiny claws dug into it.

As soon as he was under the cover of a nearby building, Bubba shoved a delicate hand down his vest and grabbed one thin wing, giving a rough tug. A surprised yelp left the disgusting creature as he dragged it out from his clothes, giving it an annoyed stare.

“Don’t _ever_ go under my clothes again,” The taller hissed through tight teeth, his tone leaving no room for argument. He had to hold back a gag as the tiny being in his hand’s body began to crack and twist, fur flattening to pale skin and giving way to dark locks of hair, while a round nose popped out like a drop of slate blue frosting from a piping bag. And through it all, Marshall Lee kept a smug look on his childish features.

“I bet you _loved_ it,” Came the purred response as the vampire quite literally took a _seat_ in his reluctant companion’s outstretched hand. “Look at you… you were all _concerned_. You still have a beating heart in there, gumdrop?” His grin turned into an all-out smirk as a deep violet blush crossed the Prince’s face. “Aww, look at you. You’re blushing! You don’t want to admit it, but you _want_ me.”

“I want you _out of my life_!” The candy man snapped and within seconds, the area around them had stilled.

Blue eyes were staring openly at him in what almost looked like pain and it took his captive a few moments to recover. Another smile crossed the pale face of the older man – this one obviously forced –before he gave a half-hearted shrug and held out his wrist, as if offering his companion something to drink.

With a scoff, Bubba grabbed hold of the offered skin and wrapped his fingers around it, covering up the other’s light-sensitive arm with his sleeve before all but shoving his hat into pale hands. Barely giving Marshall any time to replace it, the flustered Prince started toward their next destination in hopes that the next few places would be unlike the last.

But it wasn’t. None of them were. Every place he took his reluctant captive, his people ran in terror. At first, the vampire made it worse, scaring the patients at the hospital before laughing aloud, extending his fangs at the lead contractor who was attempting to fix the walls of the city… Eventually, though, he seemed to give up, just lagging along like a cheap accessory.

The second day he was pacified as well, the third even more so. By the time the fourth day rolled around, the King barely made a peep, going through the morning motions like they were rehearsed.

The palace workers were slowly growing used to his appearance, cowering slightly but no longer running in fear. They seemed eased into his presence more so by the fact that he barely spoke, one of them even offering him his lunch while their Prince busied himself with something else.

Bubba, during all that time, had nearly forgotten the other man’s presence at his side entirely. He’d given up on holding the older’s wrist, instead forcing his companion to cling onto his shoulder with a light grasp. He went about his business like there was no weight on him, an elegant smile on his face and the thought of his captive locked in the back of his mind.

Eventually things came back aground on the fourth day, when the seasonal meeting of Ooo’s royalty came about. All of the Princes from the nearby lands would gather in one place – thankfully the Candy Palace, this time –and catch up with one another, discussing the happenings in their kingdoms and their lives. Per usual, the Candy Prince had spent the previous day baking all of the goods for his fellow royals to eat and they sat neatly on the large table, displayed beautifully.

The first to arrive was hot-dog Prince, who greeted him before giving a surprised look to the being hovering over his shoulder. “Oh…I didn’t know that, um… you would be here, Marshall Lee.”

“What?” Bubba asked in surprise, before sparing a glance toward the vampire at his side, suddenly reminded of his presence. A sour feeling bubbled up in the pit of his stomach as he realized that this meeting was no longer going to go well with the King there to ruin everything. He had no doubt the snarky brat would do everything in his power to destroy the peaceful air and even now he was starting, giving a silent nod toward the one who had greeted him instead of responding with words of respect.

Several more people entered, giving the pale man at his side surprised, if not wary looks. The snotty man paid them no mind, eyes elsewhere as if he were disgusted with the whole situation. It took everything in the candy man’s power not to huff in frustration and chew him out for being so rude – not even a single _hello_ to anyone! – but somehow he managed, smiling toward his fellow Princes.

“Marshall Lee?”

For some reason, this particular call of the silent man’s name caught both he and his captor’s attention, turning two pairs of eyes toward golden brown ones of Breakfast Prince as he stepped in through the doors, eyebrows lifted. With deep brown hair of syrup and bronze skin, the man before them was tall with broad shoulders, towering over the Candy Prince and seeming massive next to Marshall.

“I… didn’t expect to see you here,” The dark-skinned man admitted and Bubba realized his bright gaze rested on the place where the vampire’s hand was touching on his shoulder.

About to cut in and explain – as he had been forced to do several times already – the pink-skinned man found himself frowning as his reluctant companion spoke instead. “I’d rather be anywhere else, Maple. But I’m kind of… well… stuck here.” He nodded toward his captor as if being at the pink-haired man’s side were the worst thing in the world. “I’ve been cursed. I have to touch him all the time or beef gets janked.”

“…Maple?” Was all Bubba managed to say, forcing himself not to rage at how disgusted the pale man sounded when speaking about him. What a snarky little-! Ugh, he couldn’t _wait_ until they were apart and he never had to see that paste face again!

“Uh… yeah?” Marshall asked, waving his free hand toward Breakfast Prince, who smiled somewhat sheepishly and shrugged. “That’s his first name, Bubbly.” He seemed to take in the surprised look on the Candy Prince’s face like he’d won a prize. “Oh, you didn’t know that? Sorry, I didn’t mean to… _upstage_ you.”

Grinding his teeth together for a moment was all the younger man could do to not backhand his arrogant captive across the face. “Oh,” He stated instead, forcing himself to sound surprised. “No, I was unaware.”

“If it helps, I didn’t know your first name either,” Breakfast Prince – or _Maple_ , apparently – offered with another half-hearted shrug before he slid past his host and went to sit down, sending Marshall an almost seductive smile that made the pink-skinned man want to vomit.

What was going on there? How did Marshall know the bronze-skinned man’s first name? Why had they talked like they were so… _familiar_? He doubted they were in to each other or anything, the syrup-haired man didn’t seem the type to go for puny, egotistical brats who brought chaos and ruin to everything happy around them.

A few more royals entered before they began, Peppermint Maid forced to bring in an extra chair so that the vampire King had somewhere to sit his ungrateful behind. Fully aware that the entire evening would be ruined, Bubba started the meeting, only to be swept up in the stories of his companions.

He lost track of the evening as usual as the group chatted and enjoyed their time together like old friends. Silently, the eldest Prince felt a twinge of sadness flow through his body. These were a great group of royals… just as their parents had been and the ones before them. He’d lost track of all of the Princes and Princesses who had come and gone from his life. It pained him to think that someday these ones would also fade to memory and become lost in a sea of faces.

The only other Royal around him who had been gifted – or cursed, depending on how you viewed it –with immortality was Marshall Lee, the Vampire King… and even then, he’d become a King by default after his half demon blood had killed the Queen when she’d turned him. He didn’t follow through with any of the responsibilities of being a King and played it off as more of a title than anything else.

Living forever was something many people in Ooo wished for but to Bubba, it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

The last bits of conversation died down as the moon crept up in the sky, people bidding farewell and saying hopes of seeing each other soon. It was only then that the Candy Prince remembered the touch on his shoulder and he turned a surprised gaze to his companion, wondering why a single word hadn’t befallen his lips at any point.

…Ah, so that was why.

A head of dark hair rested on the table atop crossed arms, shoulders rising and falling with sleep. At some point, the lazy man had pressed their legs together and drifted off into a land of dreams, completely disrespecting his company even if he hadn’t chosen to be around them.

Letting his anger build up – as the last people were leaving, Toast Prince wrapping them up – Bubba reached out to shake Marshall none-too-gently, about to feel a great pleasure at forcing him from his seemingly comfortable state. His actions ceased immediately, however, as a form moved from behind him and rested one bronze hand on the still King’s back.

“Let him sleep,” Maple whispered, holding up a finger to his lips. His voice was as smooth as the butter atop the pancake crown on his head, a smile on his clever lips. As the candy man responded with a frown, the younger leaned in, speaking an octave lower. “What have you been doing the past few days, Prince Gumball?”

Confused by the question, Bubba pulled away. The closeness between himself and the other was very unnerving. “My duties, of course. What else?”

Seeming unaffected by the obvious caution in the pink-haired man’s voice, the Breakfast Prince straightened himself up, though his hand on the vampire’s back remained. “All of which take place…?” He received no answer other than a frustrated gaze. Still patient, however, the syrup-haired man continued. “During the day… yes?”

“For the most part, yes,” his fellow royal replied slowly, as if unsure of his own words.

“Marshall here,” Maple began, as if going in a different direction. “Is a vampire.” He paused here, almost as if he were waiting for an answer, though he continued a moment later. “Vampires, in general, are nocturnal… they sleep during the day.” The realization was hitting the candy Prince before his taller companion fished speaking. “It’s a rule of thumb, really. The sun burns them, so they sleep through it. You get the idea.”

He didn’t say anything more, obviously confident that Bubba would get his meaning. And he did, in fact – the message was so clear that even a blind person could see it.

Marshall hadn’t been sleeping, at least not regularly. He wasn’t used to sleeping at night and he’d likely stayed in bed most nights, wide awake and unable to move. And when he finally managed to drift off, just as the sun started coming up… the Candy Prince would arise to a new day and drag him all over the kingdom.

“Oh,” was all the pink-skinned man could offer, but his fellow royal seemed to get the idea, smiling down at him in an almost warm fashion.

“Oh,” the Breakfast Prince replied, before he gave the sleeping vampire an almost sweet pat on the back – almost like a farewell – and left the room.

A sour feeling in his stomach, Bubba sat in silence for several long moments, contemplating what exactly had gone on the past few days. Why hadn’t Marshall made a single complaint about his lack of sleep? Why hadn’t he complained about… _anything_? After his initial grumbling about having somewhere to shower, he hadn’t really said much at _all_ , let alone a single word of frustration.

Was he really just that tired? The younger man knew what sleep deprivation could do, but to pacify _Marshall Lee_? How little sleep had he been getting…?

Unable to imagine it, the candy man instead decided upon the best course of action, allowing himself to be selfless after several unaware days of his reluctant captive doing the same. Gently, as to not wake – or hurt – the vampire, he scooped the other into his arms and made for the door.

Pepper was thankfully right there waiting for him, though she didn’t seem to like it when he told her to cancel the rest of his plans for the day. Still, she agreed with a frown and he left her for his bedroom, somehow managing to turn the handle with hands full of an almost weightless king.

Schwabl got up on the bed as he approached, moving out of the way as he toed off his shoes and sat his exhausted companion down. Managing to keep one part of himself touching Marshall at all times, Bubba untied and removed the other’s red sneakers before he slipped into the bed beside him, pulling the small form against himself.

Watching as the creepy white cat climbed atop her slumbering master, Bubba tried to let his mind drift to various things. Work, science, baking…he even tried to contemplate ways to fix their current situation, but nothing proved successful.

For some reason, the only thought going through his mind was how globbing nice it felt to have Marshall Lee curled up against him.

And he hated it.


	5. It felt so right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mature parts in this chapter.

Bubba was extremely flustered. Somehow, the self-obsessed vampire had managed to shift against him, pressing their skin together and his mouth against the Prince’s neck. Each time a small breath would fall from those lips it would tickle sensitive pink skin and it wasn’t long at all before sugary blood began to boil.

He was trying very hard to rein it in, but the way the older man was pressed against him was making it – among _other things_ – very hard. It had been years, _years_ since he’d been this close to someone else and despite his absolute distain for the king up against him, his body was reacting to the touches in all the wrong ways.

It was like torture, unable to move with a thin yet seductive body pressed against his, his own _begging_ for something to be done about it. But he refused to and even if his mind hadn’t been made up, there was nothing that _could_ be done. He wasn’t about to let that egotistical snot wake up to such a thing and rub it in his face for years.

…Yet sadly enough, luck was not on his side.

For some globbing reason, Marshall decided that an hour long nap was all he needed and he began to stir. As he shifted, his lips brushed the Prince’s throat, adding to the fire and making the man jerk in surprise. Seeming alarmed for a moment, the snarky paste face sat up, eyes gazing down to their entwined legs, were something was obviously between them.

Bubba remained still, trying to mentally prepare himself for the teasing. He knew he would never live this down, that the vampire was going to bring this up at every opportunity… he knew his days as a respectable Prince were over, that his subjects would find him disgusting…

“…Thanks for letting me sleep.” Those were the only words that fell from the vampire’s lips, before an awkward silence fell between them. They both remained still, gazes elsewhere, legs still intertwined and hands anywhere but on each other.

Finally deciding that he’d had enough after what seemed like hours, the younger man cleared his throat. “I can tell you’re still tired… you should keep sleeping. I already canceled today’s plans.”

Dark eyebrows lifted in surprise as the pale man gazed at him for a moment, before he turned away once more. “Uh… thanks.” Slowly, he removed himself from the other man’s legs and rolled over, his back to the candy man and the very tips of his socked feet touching his captor’s ankle. “Night.”

“…Night,” came the Prince’s tense response, curling over and giving the other his own back, barely managing to keep up their touch. He wrapped loose arms around his middle, the pit of his stomach turning. What kind of response was that…? Marshall had _obviously_ noticed, so why hadn’t he teased him? Why hadn’t he rubbed it in his face like a victory, or threatened to spread it across the kingdom? No, for some reason he seemed… almost scared by it.

With a promise to never speak of this situation again, Bubba allowed himself to relax, eventually drifting off to the sound of Schwabl purring behind him.

* * *

With an adjusted sleeping schedule on both of their parts, things got a bit more on track. They would sleep in in the mornings – something that the Prince found to be extremely distasteful – and go to bed later, which really just made the whole situation seem uncomfortable.

Getting somewhat better sleep had stirred up some arrogance in Marshall, who began to terrorize the palace’s inhabitants once more. He was all smug smirks and laughter, only remaining silent when either of them bathed and he was awkwardly holding the Prince’s hand, as if the very thing were taboo.

It was really starting to just get out of hand. Bubba couldn’t get any work done between the vampire scaring off his people and Schwabl chasing his mouse, Science, all over the lab. About the only thing he had left was baking and even that was ruined by the egotistical snot.

“Beef, man, you look tired,” the King commented as his captor shrugged on his night shirt, buttoning up the front. “You should really get some sleep, math. You look like you haven’t rested in weeks.”

“That’s what I’m trying to _do_ , Marshall,” The younger snapped in response, earning a whistle of amusement that sounded like nails on a chalkboard. He clenched his teeth as the other pushed his lips to one side and crossed his arms behind his head, floating lazily with one socked foot on his companion’s shoulders. “Honestly… can’t you be more respectable? I am not your _footstool_!”

Scoffing, the snot then laughed and leaned in, placing a hand against the other instead. “Have it your way, your _Majesty_.”

That was **it**! Bubba had all but had it. All of the pent up frustration boiled over with those last two words, spilling all over as he whirled around, grabbing hold of the shorter man’s wrist in a tight, almost painful grasp. “It’s your _Highness_!” He shrieked, earning an alarmed gaze from a pair of bright blue eyes. “ _Highness_ is Prince! _Majesty_ is King! Glob, can’t you get one fluffing thing right!? You’re nothing but a _burden_ , Marshall Lee! Right now I would give _anything_ to have you gone from my life!”

The dumbstruck look on the vampire’s face only served to make him angrier as he let out a huff and turned away, climbing beneath his blankets. In his fit, he forgot his responsibility and released the other’s leg, not seeming to notice as his captive winced and cringed, grasping his chest.

Forcing himself to take slow, even breaths, Marshall managed to drag himself to the other side of the bed, climbing beneath the blankets. Bubba immediately turned his back and the King felt a little like a kicked pet as he reached out, laying one palm against the tense man’s back.

Eventually he heard the other drift off, but he couldn’t seem to, his chest aching, though not physically. Even as Schwabl’s purrs gave way to snores, he remained still as the night, pain set deep inside and screaming to be comforted.

But there was no comfort.

* * *

When Bubba awoke he didn’t really notice it, too busy reaching toward his night stand to smack the meowing alarm clock off of it. When such a thing proved to do no good, however, he popped open one eye and peered across the room at Schwabl, who stood at the bottom of a pair of legs dressed in far too tight blue jeans.

Startled, the Prince shot up in bed, turning to look beside himself. A glance back toward his front and then up proved his hunch to be true as Marshall pulled on a blue flannel shirt and buttoned it up, his shoulders shaking.

“What the gumdrops, Marshall!?” The Prince snapped, throwing his comforter off of himself and stumbling across the room. He stopped mid-stride, however, when the other man held up a hand.

“It’s not so bad right now,” The vampire shrugged, his shoulders a bit stiff. “Look, I can handle this, okay?” A shaky grin crossed his pale lips as his companion frowned in what almost seemed to be concern. “Or do you _want_ me hanging around you all day? Will you _miss_ me? Aww, you’re so cute!”

Letting out a dramatic huff, the younger man crossed his arms over his chest, cocking one hip to the side. “Oh believe me, Marshall Lee, that is most defiantly _not_ it.” The other’s grin was wavering and his shoulders were shaking, making Bubba frown. One hand reached out quickly, before his captive could protest, and grabbed hold of a pale wrist. “Don’t do this, Marshall. It’s obvious you’re in pain. I’m not going to let you hurt yourself because you don’t want to be around me.”

A deep breath was sucked in between fangs, before the smaller man mumbled, “Right, _I_ don’t want to be around _you_.” He then worked up the nerve and tugged his hand away once more. “No, man, it’s totally beef. Okay? It’s not that bad. Not as bad as it was before. It’s probably getting better or something. Anyway, you can go about your Prince stuff and I can wait here. Just… come back eventually to touch me,” He ignored the face the candy man gave him. “And we should be good.”

“I’m not comfortable with this-” The Prince started, only to stop as a finger was pressed to his lip.

Big, clear blue eyes were staring up at him, shining in the light dimmed by closed curtains. For some reason, with that pleading look on his face… Marshall looked rather beautiful. The thought made Bubba’s stomach churn almost as much as the touch on his sensitive skin.

“Trust me?” The older man asked.

Tempted to respond that he had no _reason_ to trust him, his captor sighed slowly. He didn’t like this idea… he knew the other man was putting himself through pain, but if the vampire wanted to be apart from him so badly that he was willing to torture himself, he wasn’t about to stop him. “Fine.”

A grin crossed pale lips as if the smaller man had won a war, but it quickly faded as his reluctant companion passed by him and headed into his bathroom.

He’d lied about it being better. If anything, this was the worst pain yet. Being apart from the candy-haired man for the short amount of time before the other had awoken had just made every beat of his heart more unbearable and the other’s touch had cured it instantly, even more potent than a drug. It disturbed him how much he now relied on the other, especially when his presence was obviously unwanted.

Bubba offered no more words as he got dressed, but did give a gentle touch of the shoulder as he passed before leaving the room. Watching him go, Marshall felt every step the Prince took pulse in his heart as it screamed for fingers on his skin once more, bringing ease to the ache.

There was no ease to be had.

* * *

Throughout the next few days, Marshall began to see less and less of his companion. True to his word, however, Bubba made sure to catch up to him wherever he may be (usually in the Prince’s room) and give him a quick fix of his skin. Usually it only lasted a moment before he would get called away to do something else.

The vampire had never realized how much his captor had to _do_.

Nights were the best, in his opinion. The pink-skinned man would drift off to sleep and his pale companion would take the opportunity to curl up against his back, basking in the feeling of ease that washed over his body before he could finally find rest.

They didn’t really speak much, just the occasional ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’, though on his off moments the younger man would actually ask him how he was doing. Usually his older captive would avoid the question with some sort of joke that would just upset the Candy Prince, prompting him to avoid asking again for some time.

Eventually it came to a point that Marshall Lee had had enough. After lying in Bubba’s bed in pain for what felt like ages, he decided to _do_ something with it, instead of curling up and allowing the feeling to clog his brain.

Pain wasn’t as bad when you weren’t thinking about it, right?

He tried playing with Schwabl, writing music, or even terrorizing the workers in the palace… usually, when he was diverted enough, it would help and the intense feeling would just sit in the back of his mind. During times like showers, however, he could feel his stomach twisting and his lungs screaming as his body begged to be saved.

Sweet, sweet distraction came in its purest form eventually, however, and he sent his thanks to glob when Breakfast Prince decided to stop by and say hello.

As soon as they saw each other in the halls, Maple stared at him with an open mouth, before reaching out to grab hold of his shoulder in a gentle yet firm touch. “What are you doing apart from Prince Gumball?” He asked, concern lacing his words as his eyes swept over Marshall Lee’s form.

“We’re trying this thing where we’re apart and we see what happens,” The vampire explained, thankful for the feeling of fingers on his shoulder, even if they weren’t the right ones.

One fine, syrup eyebrow lifted with tanned skin as the younger man pushed his lips to one side. “And how is that working out for you, Marshall?”

“Just great,” Came the sarcastic response as the pale man gave a tight grin. He could never lie to the other – Breakfast Prince just had a way of getting the truth out of him, even when he didn’t say anything.

With a heavy, strained sigh, his companion leaned in and pressed a gentle, sweet kiss to his forehead. “You aren’t fooling me,” He assured, before he wrapped an arm around the smaller man’s slim waist and tugged him into a nearby room. Floating along behind him, Marshall was surprised as he was placed down on a table, Maple leaning in over him. “You need to tell him,” The Prince went on, locking his honey brown eyes with the vampire’s own blue ones. “This needs to stop. Being separate will get you nowhere. You’re in pain and he needs to know it.”

Waving a hand as if to brush the younger off, the pale man was then surprised as he was suddenly pressed up against a warm chest, his body wrapped in strong arms. Although it wasn’t the touch he craved for, it still comforted him to an extent, keeping him warm in a more metaphorical sense than anything else.

He wanted to tell Maple that he didn’t think Bubba would care, that he would be heartless about the whole thing. That he viewed the King as nothing more than a burden and he was willing to let him suffer from it… but inside, he thought those were likely nothing more than fears. The Candy Prince had a bleeding heart and although he was a stuck up snot who could be a bit cruel at times, the fact that he hadn’t simply thrown Marshall out on the street the first night showed he wasn’t rotten.

“I’ll tell him,” The vampire promised, with no actual intention of following through with it.

The younger man bought it, however, leaning down to press his lips against the pale man’s own. It was gentle, barely a ghost of a touch, but it made the other’s aching heart hurt a little bit less and for that, his pained companion was extremely thankful.

Craving more of the eased fix, the older man grasped the back of the Prince’s shirt, tugging him down for a second, more passionate kiss. The tanned man was surprised by the touch, pulling away almost immediately and shooting another wave of pain through the other.

“Please,” Came the pleaded call as the pale King reached out, grasping hold of Maple’s waffle-patterned shirt. He could feel tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, but he fought them away. He’d managed to hold down his emotions for almost a week, but for some reason being around his close friend made them stir. Perhaps because he knew he could trust the Breakfast-themed man with his heart without being hurt.

“Marshall, _no_ ,” The syrup-haired man stated, holding up a hand and brushing it against the vampire’s soft cheek. “You’re in _pain_. I’m not about to go touching you and-”

“It helps,” Marshall cut in, earning a surprised look. “I don’t know why, Mae… But it _helps_. So please, _please_ … don’t push me away.”

It was obvious that the younger man was feeling conflicted and honestly, his companion couldn’t blame him. It took a cruel heart to try and intimately touch someone who was in pain… but he _needed_ it. Yes, it was true that the other’s touch didn’t stop the ache, but even the slightest ease was something he had to cling onto.

Maple gave a soft noise, which might have been a sigh. He then spoke, his voice calm and reasoning. “Please, Marshall… I’m _begging_ you. Tell Prince Gumball and end this.”

“I will,” The vampire assured, fully aware that his close friend knew he was lying. “Just _please_ …”

Still very unsure and quite obvious about it, the Prince hesitated a moment, before leaning into capture the older man’s lips in an intense kiss. Instantly lithe pale arms wrapped around his neck as his lover clung to him, desperate for a hint of ease amongst a sea of ache.

Limber fingers tugged a lazy grey tank top from a slim chest as Marshall made use of his floating ability to wrap his thin legs around the other’s strong waist, tugging at bacon-styled suspenders. Drips of syrup dropped onto his arms moments later as he clung to the younger man, who slipped a gentle touch across his bare back, laying tender kisses against his head.

Too-tight jeans were struggled out of as toast-styled shorts were tugged off, bodies pressed together and heated. The more they touched, the less it hurt, the feeling of passion enough to completely clear his mind for a time that didn’t seem long enough.

“Marshall?” Maple called when the pain suddenly hit before anything more than touching had been done. The white clouding his eyes began to give way to darkness as the tall Prince gasped, cradling his body as he began to shake.

It hurt more now than he could ever remember. The pain was so intense that he expected his heart to simply give out, or perhaps even burst in his chest. He felt a metallic liquid fill his mouth as the darkness began to spread across his gaze. Every inch of his body started to radiate with pain, the feeling crawling across his skin like tiny bugs digging their way in, clawing until they reached his blood stream. He could _feel_ every vein in his body inflame and a fire spread up through his nose as he choked on the liquid in his throat, gagging and gasping for air.

His lover was calling his name, full of panic now, but Marshall couldn’t hear it. His fingers grasped for the strong man and he was vaguely aware of the feeling of sticky syrup coating his hands as he made contact before the last bits of his consciousness gave out and he spiraled into darkness.


	6. That empty feeling in your gut

There was a disturbing taste in his mouth as he was suddenly thrust into a dim light. He struggled to catch his breath, letting out a series of coughs that caught the attention of the other people in the room.

“Marshall?” Maple asked, leaning over him with a concerned expression in his honey-brown eyes. As soon as the other entered his gaze, the vampire felt a wave of pain fill his chest and he couldn’t resist the urge to grasp at it, a small noise of agony slipping past his defenses.

Near the small door of the room – which appeared to be a hospital room within the Candy Kingdom – stood a figure that Marshall just barely recognized as Doctor Prince, who held a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. He was looking down his round glasses, seeming to study the pair for a moment before he called out, “Back away from him, please, Breakfast Prince.”

Seeming surprised, the tanned man took a few steps away from the bed, seeming to instantly dull the intense pain his lover was feeling. As the King relaxed, he glanced toward the medical expert in confusion.

“I’m, of course, not well versed in spells or any sort of magic,” The Doctor explained as he stepped a bit closer, earning the vampire’s attention as well. “But it appears that whatever it is that binds you to Prince Gumball does _not_ want you near anyone else. Your sexual attempts-” he ignored the deep blue blush that brushed over the pale man’s cheeks “-With Breakfast Prince have angered it.”

“Angered… it?” The immortal man mumbled, wondering why they were now referring to his pain as a ‘thing’. Like it was a monster of some sort that could be infuriated by his actions…

“I suggest you stay away from each other for a while,” The brown-haired professional went on, flipping the pages of paper on his clip-board back, as if he were actually doing something with them. “I also suggest you remain as close to Prince Gumball as you can, Mr. Abadeer, at least until you heal from this.”

Maple looked devastated, horrified that his very presence could cause a person he cared so much about to feel pain. A look of agony was twisted on his face as he glanced at the vampire, before he finally managed to ask, “Where is Prince Gumball…?”

Doctor Prince’s eyebrows lifted for a moment, before he pushed the papers in his hands closed once more. “I sent someone to get him,” He explained. “But they returned and informed me that he was busy with something at the moment.”

The breakfast-themed man seemed surprised by the words, but Marshall didn’t feel the same way. To Bubba Gumball, work always came before anything more, except perhaps Fionna. It was no shock that he would brush off a summon to the hospital for something as insignificant as fluffing candy trees, his priorities set askew by a punctual schedule he had set for himself.

“I’ll be alright,” The vampire assured as he sat up in the bed, pushing the thin sheets off of himself. He spared a glance across the room – carefully avoiding his lover’s form – and located his clothes, before making for them.

“I suggest telling Prince Gumball of his occurrence so that it doesn’t happen in the future,” The Doctor went on, politely turning his face away as the older man struggled into his tank top. “And remaining at his side as often as possible. It’s obvious that your health can’t take this, Mr. Abadeer. You were quite injured this time and it’s possible you could die if this happens again.”

With a scoffed, “I can’t die,” Marshall brushed past the man and made for the Hospital’s exit, feeling extremely solemn about the entire situation.

It was obvious now how intense this was. Perhaps before it had been painful, but that… that was _horrifying_. The only time he could remember feeling pain like that was when he had turned into his current undead-form and at that time it had been because his body was dying. He could only imagine why such a thing was happening to him now and truth be told, he didn’t really want to.

Maple wanted him to tell Bubba… Doctor Prince suggested it. It was the smart thing to do, really… but he couldn’t get those words out of his head. The look in those violet eyes, full of such distain…

_You’re nothing but a burden, Marshall Lee! Right now I would give anything to have you gone from my life!_

Stepping out into the night air, the King allowed himself to breathe in a pained breath, seeming so much less intense now that he’d felt the brush of agony. This was like a cut in comparison to an amputation, in his opinion… a cut that he could live with if it meant avoiding situations like that one.

He couldn’t take those cruel words again.

\--

Fionna looked a bit confused as the elegant Candy Prince entered the room to greet her, a gentle smile on his face. Almost immediately, she began to glance around, scanning for any sign of a certain Vampire King who seemed to be absent from their gathering.

“Where’s Marshall Lee?” The blonde-haired girl questioned, placing a hand on one curvy hip. Her expression left no room for deceit, however Bubba was too distracted by the presence of her guest that he couldn’t address her words.

He’d only met Flame Prince a handful of times, the strange boy barely able to speak a word of normal tongue and unaware of the practices of… civilized company. Raised by Fire Lion’s, the teenager had been feral when Fionna had met him, aiding non-consensually in Ice Queen’s plans to melt her away from her imprisoned body and release her back into her Watery true form. From that point, Fionna had been slowly trying to teach him to speak – with the help of Cake, who could understand the boy’s cat-like speech – and for some reason she had thought it wise to bring the strange boy into his Palace.

“Marshall?” The teen girl asked, catching Bubba’s attention once more. He jumped in alarm, before turning his gaze back to her.

“We no longer need to touch all the time,” He explained, holding out his tray of sweets toward her. She waved a hand to decline, while Flame Prince leaned in to give the sugary treats a small sniff. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, earning an annoyed look from the candy-man and causing Fionna to shake her head at him. “We haven’t needed to for nearly a month, in fact.”

Watching as the yellow-skinned boy beside her reluctantly reached out to pluck a treat from the metallic tray, Fionna turned her gaze back toward one of her best friends. “Oh, so he went home or something? I haven’t heard from him.”

Resisting the urge to not slap the treat out of the lion-raised boy’s hands as he took a bite and immediately spat it out on the floor, the sugary skinned man settled for a look of distain. “He’s still staying here. I only see him at night, however. I’m not sure what he makes of himself, during the day… perhaps terrorizing my citizens or something of the sort. Whatever he does.”

Fionna reached over and plucked the sweet from Flame Prince’s fingers carefully, as to not burn herself. With one hand, she reached up and shook a finger in his face, making him cringe back like a chided pet. Bubba found the whole thing bothersome. After practicing this, the blonde-haired girl turned her gaze back toward him. “Well, I haven’t heard anything about him doing that. And I guess you don’t need any help figuring out what did it in the first place if it’s getting solved, huh?”

He hadn’t really thought about it. Placing down the tray, the candy-skinned man assumed the thinking position, cocking one hip and raising one hand to his chin as he contemplated. “Well, it seems to be fixing itself,” He admitted. “But… it would be nice to know what caused it.”

A toothy grin crossed the human’s face as if she’d won a contest, before she motioned toward the flame-haired boy beside her. “That’s why I brought him!” She informed. “See, FP here had an idea of what it might be.”

“Wonderful,” Bubba hummed, absolutely positive that whatever the boy’s idea was couldn’t possibly be the answer.

Turning toward Flame Prince, the short girl gave a soft smile. “Well, FP? Go ahead, tell him.”

The teenage boy looked worried now, glancing between her and the unamused candy man. After a few moments he let out a mewl like a kitten, earning a small frown.

“No, no,” Fionna addressed, shaking her finger back and forth in front of herself. “Remember what we talked about? Cake isn’t here to translate for you. You need to tell him yourself.”

For a few moments, the immortal man almost felt sorry for the pathetic lion-cub, standing there cowering like a kicked animal at the end of the human girl’s gaze… but then the idiot opened his mouth and all sympathy left. “Love… bug?” He struggled to get out, only to smile weakly as his blonde companion gave him a grin of approval.

“Love bugs?” Bubba repeated, immediately feeling fury take over him. _Love bugs_? How stupid was this boy?! Still, he had to be civil, if only for Fionna’s sake. “As much as I… _appreciate_ the suggestion, Flame Prince, that couldn’t possibly be it.” Both teenagers seemed confused by his words and he held his head high, ready to lay down some knowledge. “Love bugs only appear once in a century and when they do, they bite one person and one person only. When that happens, that person is inflicted with a situation… well, very similar to this one.” He found himself frowning at the realization, but didn’t let it phase him. “However the intent of a love bug is to get the infected person and the person they are _in love_ with together.

“Once infected, the bitten person is forced to keep contact with the person they are infatuated with at all times or else an intense pain will befall them. If the person they love does not love them back, they begin to grow weak and eventually fade. However, when the person they love most admits to loving them back and _means_ it, only then can they be free of the situation.

“Which means that such a scenario is totally, _completely_ impossible,” The Prince finished, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because there is _no_ possible way that Marshall Lee is in love with _me_.”

The dumb-struck faces of both teens mirrored each other as he completed his rant, before they gazed at one another. Then, slowly, Fionna regained her composure and gave a nod. “I can see what you mean,” She admitted, though he could see a hint of something he couldn’t read in her eyes. “Well, back to the drawing board, I guess…”

“Thank you for your… humble suggestion, however, Flame Prince,” The bubble-gum haired man struggled to say before he gave a charming smile and bid Fionna farewell. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some things I need to attend to… it was wonderful to see you again, however. It’s been far too long since you’ve visited.”

“You too, Peej,” The blonde replied, giving him a wave before she shooed her uncivilized friend out and let the door shut behind her.

After any trace of them had completely disappeared, Bubba let himself sigh in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose between two delicate fingers. _Honestly_! The notion that a _love bug_ could have caused such a thing… If anything, he was the person that Marshall Lee _hated_ most in the world. The vampire King was constantly bringing pain and annoyance into his life and once this whole thing was over he was sure they would both be happy to never lay eyes on each other again.

Feeling somewhat ill at the very idea, he made toward the room’s exit, intent on returning to his duties. There were graduation certificates to sign and if he didn’t get it done in time, there were students that were going to go without… and that wasn’t something he cared for.

Something caught his attention as he slid down the hallway, causing him to pause. As a nearby marshmallow janitor crossed his path, he caught her attention, motioning her over.

“What is this red stain?” Bubba asked, motioning to an almost miniscule spot on the floor. It was deep crimson, not really a color he could remember seeing… at least, not something that could easily stain the floor like that.

“I’m not sure, Your Highness,” The woman admitted, shaking her head. “There was a small puddle there and I cleaned it up. I don’t know what it was.”

With a small hum, the Prince assured her that she’d done a decent job and decided to brush the thought from his mind. The Palace was old and there were small, unnoticeable stains all over the floor. It wasn’t something that would catch attention unless someone happened to be looking there.

Deciding not to let such trivial things bother him, he made for his office and signed papers away into the night.

\--

Bubba got dressed quickly for something or other before brushing his teeth with a mouthful of honey. Marshall stayed in bed for the remainder of the other’s morning rituals, doing his best to pretend he was asleep, though when the Prince spoke to him it was obvious that he’d done a bad job.

“I think you’ll be able to move home soon,” The candy-man hummed, seeming positively pleased by the idea. His reluctant companion offered nothing more than a hum of response, causing a distasteful look to cross a sugary pink skin. “Well, I for one am happy. I can’t wait to have you out of my room… when’s the last time you showered, anyway? You smell of zombie cat.”

Schwabl gave a small meow from her place on the vampire’s shoulder, as if protesting his cruel words.

Without saying anything more, the younger man slipped on his shoes and departed the room, a flustered look on his face.

As his footsteps echoed down the hallway, Marshall let his blue eyes slip open. He sucked in a pained breath, before trying to shift the white cat off of himself so he could get up.

Truth be told, he hadn’t moved from that bed in nearly a week. Bubba was unaware of it, however, obviously under the impression that the dark-haired man was simply there when he returned from his duties and still sleeping when he left the following day. But the older man hadn’t had the strength to slip from the sheets a single time, not even to swallow down a sip of red.

His stomach twisted in a burning agony, reminding him of what he’d been feeling for weeks. It had been growing increasingly worse and today was almost unbearable, the foul taste in his mouth bubbling up once more. As much as he tried to ignore it, it caused him to cringe in mid-air, his body quivering.

For a little while after the incident with Maple, he’d continued to roam the palace, comforted by the fresh view on his level of pain. But slowly the aching began to climb back to that level, made worse every time he laid eyes on someone else, no matter who they were. The only one that seemed to be void of the whole thing was Schwabl, which he chalked up to the fact that she was a pet… or perhaps that she was dead.

He didn’t even bother to change his clothes as he slipped from the room, making for the spare bedroom as quickly as he could without being seen. For a moment the pain flared up, meaning someone was nearby, but he tried to ignore it as he slipped into the room and nearly slammed the door shut, leaning heavily against it.

Not having the strength to keep himself afloat anymore, the King made for the bathroom, where shaking hands turned on the warm water. It was the type of shower that didn’t come with a bath-tub, a clear plastic door separating the sizeable area from the rest of the bathroom. It kept the steam in and made him feel a bit enclosed, but at the moment he welcomed it as he leaned up against the wall after stripping from his wrinkled outfit.

The warmth from the spray barely even registered as Marshall stood there, eyes on the floor. His mind had begun to whirl, his legs threatening to give out beneath him. He could feel unconsciousness clouding the back of his mind and he wondered idly who would come and rescue him if he passed out in the shower. Candy people couldn’t exactly reach in and grab him, could they?

All thoughts of such things went out the window, however, as he felt something fill his throat from the inside. It crawled up in an instant, as cold as ice and filled his mouth with that foul, metallic taste. Liquid spilled from his lips all over his hands in waves, hitting the colorless floor with more intensity then the water itself, the plopping sound echoing in his sensitive ears.

As darkness crawled at his vision, the King turned his gaze down to his coated hands. He didn’t have the strength to feel alarmed as he realized the foul liquid was the deep crimson of his blood before his legs gave out beneath him and he fell against the side of the shower, welcoming the feeling of unconsciousness.

…But it never came.

Instead, the pain hit. His heart began to beat intensely and he could _feel_ it rotting in his chest, shooting blood like nails through his veins. His lungs were full of nothing but liquid now, no breath coming from his body though it kept trying and trying, only to choke again and again. Blood continued to spill from his mouth in waves, his heart pumping more and more, just continuing the cycle. His head spun and ached, clawing at darkness as it begged to end the pain.

But it wouldn’t. As much as he sobbed and plead to Glob and whatever other deities Ooo housed, darkness wouldn’t come. All that came was pain, intense and constant…

And he was certain that it wouldn’t stop anytime soon.


	7. A sobering realization

Bubba’s initial reaction when he’d entered his bedroom was fury. The side of the bed which usually housed the Vampire King was empty, made up and free of chaos. His immediate thought was that the snarky man had left without saying anything, but he didn’t allow himself to wonder why such a thing upset him so much.

When he spotted Schwabl, however, he grew concerned. She perked her head up from beside the bed as soon as he opened the door, as if realizing something. The feline then ran from the room, letting out a series of mewls that caught his attention and caused him to gaze after her.

For some reason, the pet’s alertness filled him with dread, though he wasn’t sure why. It was a feeling that settled in his gut, one he didn’t find pleasant… It was the type of feeling that one didn’t ignore, no matter what the situation, so he brushed off any thoughts of getting ready for bed and made after the cat, only to realize after one long turn that he’d completely lost her.

“Oh, Your Highness!” A voice behind him called, earning his gaze. Peppermint Maid stood in surprise, her eyebrows high on her round face. “I wasn’t expecting you,” The woman admitted. “I thought you were off to bed. It’s late.”

Not really in the right mindset to offer any sort of explanation – how did one explain a bad feeling they simply _had_ , anyways? – the candy-haired man questioned, “Have you seen Marshall Lee?” Immediately, a frown crossed his lips. Marshall? He’d meant to ask about Schwabl… why had those words come out?

Peppermint seemed just as shocked by his words as she frowned. “Oh…” The candy woman offered, rather unhelpfully. “I saw him early this morning, headed toward the guest room… but not since then, Your Highness.”

Another painful twist of his gut made Bubba turn and rush down the hallway before he could fathom what exactly what was going on. He felt as if glob himself was guiding him and he decided to simply go with it, afraid what would happen if he dared to resist the suddenness he felt.

As he approached the guest bedroom’s door he found Schwabl standing there, clawing at it in alarm. The Prince couldn’t remember ever seeing the feline full of so much energy, yet she seemed almost alive as she yowled in panic.

Without allowing himself to think any more on the subject, the tall man reached up and grasped the handle of the room, sucking in a deep breath. He then clicked it open, allowing the cat entrance. Instantly, she made for the open bathroom door as he stepped inside slowly, taking in his surroundings.

From the doorway he could hear the shower going, which instantly made concern fill his heart. Pepper had stated she’d ran into the small man heading this way… that _morning_. It was well past nightfall now, yet the water was in full spray, meaning either Marshall had held back on his shower, or…

Not allowing himself to question what the ‘or’ was – all the while pretty sure that he was about to find out – Bubba inched toward the bathroom door. His stomach was so far in his throat that he could taste the sugar on his tongue. “Marshall?” He called, praying that he would get a response.

Schwabl yowled out in what almost seemed to be pain, but the Prince still slowly approached, trying to put off what he felt would be very unsettling. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what to expect… but the feeling deep inside told him that he wasn’t going to like it.

“Marshall?” The pink-haired man wheezed again, barely managing to choke it out this time as he entered the doorway.

Upon first glance, nothing appeared to be wrong. The shower was going, the door closed and Schwabl outside of it, yowling. At first there was hope as he stepped closer, covering his eyes in case the unruly Vampire was pulling a cruel prank and simply trying to get him to gaze upon his nude body.

“Marshall, if this is a joke-!” The younger man found himself forcing out, hoping upon hope that he would get some sort of reply. Even a snicker would do, or _some_ sort of indication that he wasn’t about to lay his eyes upon something that would churn his stomach forever. When there was nothing, he felt a sob bubble up in his throat. “Marshall-!” Precious seconds ticked by, each one full of the sound of the shower spraying, which only added to the terror that was filling him. Finally, after gathering up his courage, the Prince spat, “I’m uncovering my eyes!” And threw his hands down.

They flew to his mouth seconds later.

The water did little to keep the red spilling from Marshall’s lips in waves off of his body, only hitting his lower half as he sat up against the far wall of the porcelain. His form was still, his chest convulsing with breath that came out as gags, which were inaudible over the sound of the shower’s spray.

He was paler than ever before, his skin as white as the walls behind him. His eyes held nothing in them, but they were wide open, blinking from instinct. Bubba wasn’t sure how, but he _knew_ through all this that the King was completely conscious, even if he wasn’t able to move.

The younger man didn’t allow himself time to react as he pulled open the door and reached inside, scooping the small form into his arms. Water sprayed across him, soaking his back and arms, but he didn’t find a second’s worth of care as he hauled the vampire from the spray and cradled him to his body, screaming for someone, _anyone_ for help.

Schwabl yowled as if she were being tortured as he dragged the soaked dark-haired man to the spare room’s bed, nearly collapsing onto it with the other in his arms. With shaking hands, he pressed the small form against his chest. “Marshall! Glob, Marshall-! I’m here, it’s okay! I’m getting you help, alright?! Can you hear me?!”

There was no response, blue eyes gazing up at him, glazed over and yet totally aware of their surroundings. The only sounds the pale man made were gags as he choked on his own blood, deep crimson and staining his bare skin, as well as Bubba’s deep violet shirt.

A maid appeared in the doorway for a moment, only to scream in alarm for someone nearby to call Doctor Prince. Bubba wasn’t really aware of it, however, as he reached up with one melting hand and pressed it against the pale man’s cheek.

“I’m sorry,” the sugary man found himself whispering. He could feel tears beginning to sting at his eyes and he allowed them to fall, dripping onto the other’s blood-stained face. “Glob, Marshall… how long has this been going on? How could I… how could I have been so _blind_?”

And he felt that way, too- he completely blamed himself. From the very first moment he had doubted the vampire’s ability to be separate from him, but he’d allowed himself to be swept up in the limelight of having his own life back and he hadn’t bothered to ask Marshall how he was fairing, at least not at a point where it mattered.

How many warning signs had there been about this…? That stain in the hallway, that was probably _blood_. What else could he have missed? Had the King been steadily decreasing this entire time, going downhill until he reached this point? Or had this hit suddenly?

Candy Prince spun around in anger as Peppermint appeared beside him and reached out. “Your Highness, we need to dry you off-”

“I can’t leave him!” Bubba snapped, catching her off guard and making her large form jump.

“But-” The sugary woman began, only to be cut off again.

“Look at what being apart from me has done!” The pink-skinned man practically bawled, clinging desperately toward the gagging form in his arms. “I can’t let him go for a _second_! I don’t care if I melt until I’m age _three_ , Pepper, I’m never letting him go!”

With a deep frown, the maid turned toward the group of workers who had gathered in the door and called for something to dry her Prince off with. He gave her the cold shoulder, however, his eyes locked with Marshall’s dead ones as he cradled a head of wet hair.

It felt like an eternity before Doctor Prince appeared at his side, but once he was there the seconds sped by quicker than the sugary man could fathom. The brown-haired man’s hands were all over, checking things that the older man couldn’t even name as he stared at the professional, pleading for good news.

With a heavy sigh, the Doctor shook his head. “About a month ago, he came in to the hospital,” He explained and Bubba found himself wondering why they were _talking_ and not _acting_. “Something similar to this had happened while he was with Breakfast Prince, but not this bad. I advised him to let you know of the incident and continue with your constant touch, least this happen again… I’m assuming that didn’t happen?”

Feeling a bit assaulted with all of these sudden bits of information, the Prince attempted to process them all at once. Marshall had been with Breakfast Prince? This had happened _before_? He went to the _hospital_? After taking a short moment, he finally managed to answer the question with nothing more than a quick shake of his head, unable to really speak.

The younger man gave a heavy sigh. “I can tell you what’s happening, Your Highness, but I’m afraid it’s very, very bad news.”

Strangely thankful with the other for being blunt, the candy man only managed a nod.

Catching violet eyes with his own brown ones, Doctor Prince began. “Whatever this thing is, it’s attempting to kill him. His body is giving out. His lungs have filled with blood, his heart is screaming to stop… but it can’t.” He looked down his glasses, noting the horrified look in his opposite’s gaze. “Marshall Lee is undead, so his body _can’t_ die. As much as it’s trying to, it _can’t_. So it’s a continuous cycle at the moment of it dying and coming back to life.”

“Oh, glob…” Was the only thing that Bubba managed to choke, holding Marshall even closer, if possible.

“He’s entirely conscious, as well,” The doctor explained, driving the nail in even deeper to the older man’s heart. “As I suspect he’s been since this began. Because he can’t drift off into death, he’s caught in the few moments before.”

Tears streamed down sugar cheeks and the Prince had to break their eye contact, turning his gaze down to the gagging man in his arms.

Standing up from his crouched position, the brunette fixed his glasses out of habit more than anything else. “There is good news, however,” He explained, immediately gaining a hopeful gaze. “Because he is a vampire, his body will heal itself from this. It will take _time_ , however, and should you leave his side at _any_ time it will worsen his condition considerably.” His eyes were intense as he finished. “Do you understand, Your Highness?”

Sucking in a deep breath, the pink-haired man gave a solid nod, completely aware of his role in this. He had to stay with the King at _all_ times, no matter how long it could be. He couldn’t part from his side for _anything_ , no matter how important it seemed to be. If he separated from the older immortal for even a second it could whirl the man back into a state like this one.

“Furthermore,” The professional went on. “I want you to limit his contact with others as well. Have them bring you your meals, but nothing more. He needs you and you alone right now.” Pink eyebrows lifted in concern and confusion as Bubba gave a stunned, slow nod. “I can give him something for the pain, but I can’t be certain it will work, at least not in his current state. His dying blood may simply flush it all out of his system. But it’s worth a shot. They’ll be injections, are you comfortable doing that?”

With a numb nod, the Prince rested his gaze on the form he clung to, his initial panic giving way to a sense of daze as he took in the other’s soft skin and pale features, his heart hallow. He was used to syringes from his scientific experiments, so the idea of injecting the man with something didn’t bother him… but he struggled with the thought that pain medication would do nothing to ease the other’s pain.

Pain… from _dying_.

It hit suddenly, going from blankness to an intense wave of sadness in a matter of seconds. A sob bubbled from his throat, choking him from the inside, shaking his entire body as he leaned forward and curled around the blood-stained form in his arms.

More cries followed that one as he completely broke down, seated haphazardly on the guest bed with a man he barely cared for dying in his arms. He didn’t have the right mindset to wonder why such a thing made him feel such heartbreak, but the weeps kept coming, his surroundings disappearing as he held onto the small form as if he were a lifeline.

Because that’s what he was to Marshall, right now. A lifeline. And he’d failed at his job… Because of his stupidity, the King who seemed so small at the moment was caught in a cycle of pain for who knew how long, each moment full of an agony that the Prince himself couldn’t begin to imagine.

When his body had finally cried itself out, he realized that Schwabl was beside him on the bed, yowling in terror. With one shaking hand, the Prince reached out to rest a palm on her, as if his touch could comfort the feline like it had once done her master. It did little, however, one of her paws reaching up to grasp at the dark-haired man’s wet arm, begging him to move.

At some point Doctor Prince must have left, his lack of presence in the room a bit comforting. Bubba didn’t have it in him to worry about being embarrassed from his tears, however, as he gently shifted the seemingly tiny form in his arms so he could rest against the bed’s headboard a bit more comfortably. He cradled the older man like a child, his head hung low as he listened to pitiful gags.

Vaguely aware of the warmth of a heat lamp on him – Pepper, most likely, in hopes he would dry faster under it – the candy-skinned man sat with his self-loathing, allowing it to consume him for quite some time. He regretted every cruel thing that he’d said to the vampire, who had allowed himself to be tortured without daring to speak up.

…Why _hadn’t_ Marshall spoken up? If this had been going on for some time – if he’d been put in the _hospital_ – then why hadn’t he mentioned it? Bubba couldn’t fathom it, completely confused by what would have caused the usually so snarky man to hold in such a big secret.

And come to think of it, if he’d been hospitalized, why hadn’t the Prince heard about it? Doctor Prince hadn’t thought to mention it, or perhaps even Breakfast Prince? The former may have had that doctor-patient confidentiality excuse, but Maple had no reason to hide a secret like that.

Then it hit him suddenly and the realization pulled another sob from his throat. Some time ago he had been approached in the midst of a meeting with the local pool cleaner by a nurse. She’d told him he was requested at the hospital, but he’d brushed it off, assuming it was something that could wait. He’d meant at the time to check back on the incident later, but that had never happened…

If he’d just done it then, the sugar-skinned man could have easily prevented this. This entire thing was his fault, caused by his selfishness and cruelty. And now Marshall was suffering for it, laying here in a prison of pain…

Eventually he dried out enough to flick off the heat lamp and found the strength to depart from the room, Schwabl at his heels. Cradling the dark-haired man to his chest, Bubba carried him to his bedroom and dressed him in a set of his own most comfortable pajamas with great care. A quick trip to the bathroom provided him with as many towels as he could find before he slipped them both into the bed and pressed the other against himself.

Grasping the first rag, the younger man pressed it gently to the seemingly small man’s lips, thankful that the liquid didn’t seem to be spilling as fast as he’d first thought. He didn’t take any care to keep his hands off of the still wet black hair, unconcerned with his own skin as he stared down at a pair of dead blue eyes in a numb sadness.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the Prince allowed himself to speak, his voice heavy in his throat. “…I’m sorry, Marshall Lee,” he whispered, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes once more. “For everything I’ve done… for letting it get to this point. For every cruel thing I’ve said to you. I’m sorry.”

Despite the fact that he _knew_ the vampire couldn’t respond, his heart still ached with every second of silence that ticked on.

“I know apologies are meaningless in the grand scheme,” Bubba went on after a few moments, wiping away a bit of blood as the small man choked again. He’d rested the other’s head against his chest, allowing the liquid to flow more freely, instead of remaining in the back of an already gagging throat. “It’s actions that mean more, but… Marshall, I will _not_ let this happen again.”

From there he let himself slip into silence, one hand idly petting Schwabl as she mewled at Marshall’s back, seated on the Prince’s knees. This went on for what must have been an hour, before he decided that the form in his arms deserved something more than a quiet agony.

Removing his limber hand from the feline, the candy-haired man reached into his bedside table and removed a novel he hadn’t even had a chance to begin. Without even remembering what it could possibly be about he thumbed it open and began to read. Even if the older man wasn’t interested in the story, it was likely he’d be thankful for the distraction.

At some point a maid entered with something for him to eat, but within hours he hadn’t touched it, lips reading aloud the words on the paper without actually understanding what was behind them. To the candy man, he could have been speaking nonsense, as long as he kept reading. It numbed his mind and he prayed to glob that it helped numb the man in his arm’s, as well.

The sun was rising when Pepper entered to bring him breakfast, though he didn’t spare her a glance. To his surprise, however, she reached out to interrupt him, a concerned look on her features. “Your Highness,” The woman addressed as she held out a telephone with one small hand. “It’s Fionna.”

Lips becoming tight, Bubba nodded. “Thank you, Pepper. You can go.”

With a quick bow, his faithful maid slipped out of the room after leaving behind a plate of bagels that they both knew would go untouched.

With his chest feeling tight, the Prince pressed the portable receiver to his ear, expecting to be chewed out for his idiocy. “Hello?”

To his surprise, Fionna’s voice on the other end was panicked and it was obvious that she was in the midst of sobbing loudly. “Is he okay!?” The girl begged and he could imagine her gripping the front of his shirt and pulling him down to her height. “Glob, is he okay, Peej!?”

“Fionna-” The older attempted to reply, unconsciously holding Marshall closer, as if doing so would allow him to hear their best friend’s concern.

Immediately, the human cut him off, bawling, “ _Please_ tell me he’s okay! Pepper said I can’t come see him! Why not, Peej!? What’s wrong with him!? Is he dying!? He can’t die, right!? Peej, _please_ , tell me he’s okay!”

Before the man could cut in and try to respond, he heard the girl’s feline best friend speak gently, likely placing a paw on the girl’s shoulder. “Let him talk, baby cakes,” Cake breathed, trying to ease the poor teen’s nerves. “He can’t tell you what’s wrong if you don’t let him talk.”

For a moment, the blonde was silent, before she mumbled a meek, “…Go ahead, Peej.”

Almost wishing that Cake hadn’t cut in – it was far easier to listen to Fionna speak then reply – the Prince pressed the phone between his shoulder and ear so that he could gently pet Schwabl with his free hand, still grasping Marshall’s still somewhat damp hair. “…Doctor Prince told me he can’t be around anyone else,” He started with, deciding to answer the easiest question – at least in his opinion – first. “He’s not dying. He…”

A frown crossed sugary pink lips, then. His human friend was still young, barely seventeen… she didn’t deserve to hear about things like death and blood-soaked best friends. Yes, she was an adventurer; she’d likely killed more monsters then he could fathom, but… it was different when it was your friend.

He knew that better than anyone else.

With a solemn sigh, Bubba decided that being up-front with her was better than trying to sugar-coat it. He adored the girl and she deserved to know the truth. “…His body is trying to die, but because he’s a vampire, it can’t. Right now he’s trapped in a constant cycle of his body giving out and then coming back.”

The howl that left Fionna broke his heart a little bit inside and he could hear her fall to the floor in horror, barely managing to hold onto the telephone.

“Will he be okay!?” The girl begged after a few moments of weeping, her voice strained from tears. When he didn’t answer fast enough, her plea turned to a demand of, “Peej, will he be okay!?”

“Doctor Prince said he will heal,” the candy-haired man managed to assure, feeling a little bit of comfort as her sobs turned to ones of relief. “But it will take time. I can’t leave his side for _anything_ and no one is allowed to see him.”

For a few moments he allowed the blonde to gather up her emotions as she tried desperately not to break down all over again, before she sucked in a strained breath and finally managed to ask, “What caused this…?”

Now came the hard part… admitting his fault. Letting his eyes drift down to Marshall’s still form, he grabbed the nearby cloth and wiped at the man’s mouth – he hadn’t done it in too long and now there was blood dripping down the side of a pale face – before he spoke. “I was under the assumption that things were improving… that we were able to spend time apart. But it seems that I was wrong. For the entirety of it he’s been in agony and I was unaware…”

For all of her misguiding and moments of silliness, Fionna could be very perceptive at times. He could just imagine the frustrated look on her face as she told him, “I know you’re blaming yourself, Peej. I can hear it in your voice.” His eyebrows lifted on his face, but she continued before he could answer. “It’s _not_ your fault. Yeah, maybe you could have seen it coming or whatever, but he could have mentioned it too, okay? So don’t go math yourself for something that he could have prevented as well.”

Pushing his lips to the side for a moment, Bubba then allowed a sigh to leave them as he shrunk back against his headboard. Inside, he knew the human girl was right, but a part of him refused to blame the man in his arms, so small and so pained, for anything. “But-” he attempted, only to fall short with the release of strained breath.

“If anything, you need to blame whatever the weasels caused this in the first place,” The teenager continued and he could picture her wrapping an arm around bent legs, leaning up against the wall as she spoke into the receiver. “Have you made any progress on finding out what it is?”

Had he made progress? He hadn’t even _tried_. Too caught up in his own life, he’d just assumed whatever it was had gone away and brushed the whole thing aside entirely…

His silence was more of an answer then any words could be, pulling a sigh from the girl on the other end of the line. “Look,” she addressed, her voice more serious than he could remember it being in a long time. “I know you think that Love Bug thing that FP suggested wasn’t likely, but you should at least look into it, okay? Maybe that one thing wasn’t consistent, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t be that, you know? So just… check it out. Please.”

Wondering why such a thing seemed to matter so much to her, the Prince gave a meek word of agreement before they whispered their goodbyes and ended their call. With a numb mind, he made a mental note to ask Pepper for any sort of information she could find on the insects before he wiped at Marshall’s bleeding mouth once more and returned to their open novel, not entirely sure where he’d left off.


	8. Denial

Love Bugs were quite the interesting species, in retrospect. After feasting on one person’s blood a single time, they gave birth to an egg and died. That single egg took a hundred years to open, repeating the cycle. A few hundred years ago, Bubba had heard stories of them, but he’d never really done extensive research.

The poison in them attacked the brain, before spreading to the heart, ultimately linking the two. It fed on intense emotion - infatuation in specific – and when those emotions were denied the poison would immediately attack the victim. As time went on it would slowly spread throughout the body, weakening everything until one final dose ended the bitten person’s life for good. The only way to avoid it was for the infatuation to be satisfied.

It was like being love sick, really… except if your feelings weren’t returned, you were doomed.

In its last stages, the poison would turn the bitten victim’s veins black, filling their blood with its last deadly dose of venom before stopping their heart completely in one final, weakened beat. The whole process was said to be very silent, the fallen person usually completely unconscious by the time their last breaths were taken.

In one book – a tear-jerking journal written by a victim of the bite whose love was unreturned – the agony was written as the most painful thing imaginable, described as being similar to what the writer could imagine the feeling of having nails hammered into your heart might be. A single moment without her loved one’s touch was enough to bring her to her knees, but thankfully the man had been kind enough to stay at her side even though he was quite in love with his wife.

At one point the woman had mentioned that feeling of anyone else’s skin had begun to cause her pain before, eventually, even seeing someone else made her chest sting. The man had spent some time away from his very unhappy wife to ease her ache, however.

Her last days were written as nothing more than babble, going on about how she would have done things differently. After her passing, however, the man had taken up several pages of notes after reading her memoires.

He’d described her death as quiet and calm, the poison blackening all of her veins as quickly as ink flooding through water.

Feeling solemn as he read such things, Bubba took comfort in the fact that Marshall didn’t feel anything like that toward him. He was still thoroughly convinced that Love Bugs were most definitely _not_ what was going on here as the vampire obviously wasn’t in love with him.

The books were read aloud to keep the still man in his arms entertained, though he was certain if the King could speak he would complain about the material. Still, he’d made a promise to Fionna about doing the research and he couldn’t break a promise to the girl… the small man would at least understand that, his own attachment to her very similar.

People came and went, bringing him daily meals that he barely picked at. Occasionally he would start awake after drifting off in the middle of reading aloud, only to pick back up where he left off.

“Oh, this one’s interesting,” The Prince stated aloud, unconsciously running his fingers through Marshall’s dark hair. “This one tells a story of a married woman who was bitten and the person she loved most wasn’t her husband. She tried to ignore it and stay with him, but when they tried to sleep together the venom reacted to the secret infatuations she harbored for the woman she longed for and attacked her heart, killing her…”

A frown crossed his features as he stared down at the words written on the page before him. Lungs filling with blood, heart giving out… it all sounded very familiar, making his stomach twist.

“Can Love Bugs work in reverse?” He wondered aloud, putting the book aside as his eyes drifted downward. “Forcing two people to touch who don’t even like each other?”

He received no response and yet, for some reason, he found himself expecting one. With a heavy sigh, the candy-haired man placed the paperback on the bedside table and eyed the blood-stained rag that still sat there, even after being unused for nearly two days.

The King’s vampire blood seemed stronger than the venom, which was perhaps why he had lasted so long without touch before his heart gave out, - from Bubba’s understanding it usually happened within a week- healing him quicker than his companion could have hoped for. The bleeding from his mouth had stopped within a day, replacing his heart-breaking gags with shaky, uneven breaths. Those, however, had quickly given way to calm ones and eventually Marshall had slipped into a seemingly blissful unconsciousness.

The younger man was certain that he was thankful for it.

He’d been giving the smaller man the injections that Doctor Prince had given him on a regular basis, sure to keep his pain as eased as possible. He seemed well on the road to recovery by this point, however, and the Prince couldn’t have been happier about it.

From the very moment he’d happened upon the scene in the shower he had promised to be kinder to his dark-haired captive, no matter how much the pale man annoyed him. The idea of losing the snarky King had been all too real and although he wasn’t quite sure why it bothered him so much, it wasn’t a feeling he wanted to have again. He was certain that the other would drive him crazy at times, but he swore to himself that he would hold back his rage…

Did he really _hate_ Marshall? No, he supposed that deep down he didn’t. Yes, he harbored a very refined distaste for the older, but hate was a strong word. It was also a matter of perspective, as well- he’d hated Ice Queen, wanted her tossed in holding for all of the torment she’d caused him… but when he’d learned from Fionna that she was actually _in_ a form of a prison within her own body, his dislike for her turned to pity. As cruel as she had been to him, a new outlook on her had washed away any feelings of loathing he had felt.

But Marshall was different. He’d known the vampire for a millennium, spent countless days watching the snarky King shape into who he was today. And throughout the years his anger had grown, watching as the young-looking man became more of a snot and less of someone he could stand to be around.

…Or was he really that different? After all, he’d put himself through so much, literally _killing_ his undying body on repeat. Was he really that insufferable?

In the middle of a sentence about something completely unrelated – he’d far surpassed the chapter on Love Bugs and had instead started on a reading about Copper Beatles – Bubba started suddenly as the form he clung to gave a small, quiet groan of pain.

“…Marshall?” The Prince called, unable to restrain the surge of desperation that swelled through his veins. It was intense and stomach twisting, but it was there none the less, as real as the man he held close.

Pale blue eyes, dim with exhaustion, slipped open and stared up at him half-lidded. The younger man held his breath in his chest, silently sending a prayer to glob that the dark-haired man hadn’t simply slipped into a form of conscious stillness. The air left his lungs as a sigh of relief, however, as his companion blinked heavily and twisted his head away from the dim light of the room, burying a face into the candy man’s soft hooded jacket.

“Marshall?” The taller man asked again, setting down his book in favor of cradling the slight form closer.

Schwabl lifted her head up from the end of the bed and stood, stretching her long body before doing the same to her back legs. As she approached, the vampire let out a strained breath, barely managing to lift a shaking hand toward her. An excited purr left the feline as she rubbed against his skin, incredibly soft and well groomed.

No words left him, but Bubba didn’t mind. His heart swelled with relief and a breath choked in his throat as he shifted the other so his pet had a more comfortable spot in his lap. Pale hands stroked her fur gently and the candy Prince soaked it in, trying to hold back the surge of emotion that threatened to bubble out.

He wanted to hold the other as tightly as possible and sob into his neck, so much that it actually hurt to physically restrain himself. His body _ached_ for it and eventually he settled with leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss to the other man’s head without allowing himself to really think about what it meant.

For what seemed like hours they sat there in silence, Schwabl purring loudly as her owner pet her, his eyes half-lidded. To the tall man who held him close, it seemed like a slice of the cosmos, the situation more than he could have ever prepared himself for.

Awake… Marshall was awake. He was alive, he was _okay_. It seemed like only the day before he was in a shower choking on his blood endlessly, yet here he sat, weakened but _there_.

Eventually, it was the vampire that spoke, his voice cracking as he croaked out what might have been a ‘hello’. He fell short as the man holding him shook his head and scooped up a nearby cup of juice, it’s deep red giving it away as cranberry.

“Drink,” Bubba told him gently, helping the other press the glass to his lips. He was thankful he’d decided to stick to the red-colored liquid, in case the older awoke. In his arms, his companion choked a bit on the red as it went down his throat, sitting up quickly as he started to gag.

Alarm filling him, the Prince reached out to rest a gentle hand on his back, only to calm as the dark-haired man caught his breath and relaxed. For a few moments the other sat there, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, before he allowed himself to fall back against the tall man’s broad chest.

Deciding to break the seemingly strange silence, the candy man reached up to brush dark bangs away from blue eyes. “It’s good to see you,” He offered, suddenly feeling very awkward about the whole thing. Marshall had been entirely aware of his surroundings that first night and for quite some time afterwards… he’d seen the regal man cry over his shaking form repeatedly, struggling to find his composure.

“Bubba…?” the other asked, earning a surprised look from violet eyes. The vampire didn’t bother to meet them, his own gaze still half-lidded as he reached up to grasp the material over the younger’s chest in a vice grip. He earned no response, but he hadn’t really been expecting one. After a moment, a whisper left his lips, strained and sincere. “…Don’t let me go again, okay?”

His heart breaking a little bit in his chest, Bubba sighed gently and buried one hand into the other man’s dark hair. “Okay,” he whispered with absolute honesty. “I’ll never let you go, Marshall Lee.”

The older man relaxed at these words, letting his eyes slip shut. Moments later he slipped into his first restful sleep in ages and throughout it, the Prince sat as still as he could, watching the other’s pale, slumbering face with a sense of relief he hadn’t felt in quite some time.

Marshall Lee was finally awake… he was going to be okay.

Everything was going to be okay.

* * *

It took some time for the dark-haired man to renew his energy enough to do simple tasks, brushing his teeth and showering feeling more like a chore then a comfort at first. He was thankful for his vampiric hair, which remained tangle free at all times, though it had a layer of sugar stuck in it from his captor’s constant touch… which, truth be told, he hadn’t really minded.

Eventually he managed to work himself back up to a reasonable point, however, able to dress himself and feed himself without his hands shaking. Honestly by the end of it, it wasn’t really the weakness that caused the quivering, but instead the memory of the terrorizing pain he’d felt and the feeling of constantly gagging on his own blood. There was a deep-set fear that refused to leave telling him to constantly be on alert for it to happen again, despite the precautions.

And oh, were there precautions. Bubba had all but barred off his room to all except Peppermint Maid, who brought them their food and little more. The halls between his room and the spare were vacant as well, so much in fact that the older man was beginning to feel a little bit stir crazy, only having his fellow immortal around for company at all times.

After a few more days of these practices, he’d had enough. “You should invite Fionna over,” the pale man stated as he strummed a few strings on his guitar, his back pressed against the broad one of the other’s as they sat beside each other, a book in his companion’s hands.

He could feel, rather than see, the frown on the Prince’s face. “Doctor Prince specifically said to limit your contact.”

Resisting the urge to tell the younger man that he was acting more like a mother then the vampire’s _actual_ mother, Marshall leaned back, resting his head against one strong shoulder. “It doesn’t hurt when Pepper comes in here. I think that part of its gone.” These words only received a disbelieving hum, which he supposed he deserved, after all of the hell he’d put the younger man through with his lies. Groaning, the smaller man flopped onto his side and rolled until he was on his back, his waist pressed against his captor’s thigh. “Bubs, _please_. I’m going crazy, here!”

Sugary pink lips were pushed to one side as violet eyes narrowed at him, an expression of disbelief in its finest form. It was obvious that the other wasn’t about to cave, no matter how much he begged.

With a dramatic groan, the older threw his hands above his head and whined out his frustration for a moment, before finally going lax and settling for a childish mope. He was unceremoniously ignored, however, as his companion returned to his text book and didn’t send him a second glance.

“At least let me _call_ her!” He pled, poking out his bottom lip in his best pout.

His answer was an abrupt, “No,” before the other turned a page.

“ _Why_?” the King moaned, tossing his head about. He _knew_ there had to be a button he could push that would allow him to get what he wanted. It was always easy to get under Bubba’s skin, yet for some reason its sugary surface had suddenly glazed over into rock candy as he hid behind his paperback.

Ah, there it was. A strained breath left the Prince as he lowered his book into his lap and turned his bright gaze toward the fit-throwing man beside him. “Because, Marshall,” He addressed, obviously trying to keep his cool. “Even the _sound_ of someone’s voice could set it off.” As a frown crossed the pale man’s face, he regained his composure, his frustrated features twisting into a look of concern. “And I’m not willing to take that chance.”

He then returned to his book, thankful for the silence that followed as his dark-haired companion stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

It was difficult, he had to admit, to not get frustrated with the other man. Especially during moments like this, where he’d purposely attempt to push his buttons to pull reactions from him… but after all those days in this very bed with the snotty man dying, he found it difficult to remember why he held so much dislike for the King.

Things like laziness and a snarky attitude seemed so trivial when someone he’d once cared about so much was in his arms, on the brink of death. It had been a wakeup call, a real kick to any of the bad feelings he still harbored for the other. All of those intense feelings of distain had all but disappeared, giving way to a solemn feeling every time he laid eyes on his captive.

Just like Ice Queen, after she’d melted herself free of her prison, it was kind of hard to hate someone when you saw the real person behind the layer of animosity that clouded your eyes.

After a few moments of staring at the same sentence for several long moments, Bubba allowed a strained breath to fall from his lips. “I’ll call Fionna,” He informed. “And talk to her for you.”

One fine, dark eyebrow quirked after a moment, before Marshall gave him a disbelieving look. “You really think I want _you_ to hear our conversations, Bubbly?”

“It’s that or nothing, Marshall Lee,” The Prince informed with a half-hearted shrug. “I can’t risk her presence setting something off and you want to talk to her, so this is our compromise.”

Blue eyes rolled, but the vampire sat up none the less and motioned toward the nearby cordless receiver. “Doesn’t sound like much of a compromise if only one person is agreeing to it,” He muttered, watching with annoyance as his companion quickly dialed the correct number from memory. “Glob, man, how many people’s numbers do you know?”

“I have to keep a database of them on hand in case of emergency,” Came the other’s answer as he pressed the phone against his ear. One slim, pink sugar hand reached up to push a pale face away as his captive attempted to lean in closer. After a few moments, he lowered the phone and ended the call. “She isn’t answering.”

“That’s beef!” The older man declared in frustration, burying a hand in his hair. After a moment of silence, he suddenly perked up with a new wave of energy. “Do you know Mae’s number?”

Realizing after a moment that ‘Mae’ was in reference to Breakfast Prince, a deep frown settled on the younger man’s face. He remembered Doctor Prince mentioning that the King had been in the syrup-haired man’s presence when he’d been hit by pain the first time… but he’d never thought to ask _why_ the younger royal had been around. They’d seemed friendly at the Princely meeting, but if the tanned man was making visits to the vampire at _his_ palace…

Deciding to play into Marshall’s request – if only to have his questions answered – Bubba dialed the number and pressed the receiver to his ear, hoping someone would answer.

“Hello?” The young voice of Maple’s brother, Toast Prince, called on the other end.

“Toast Prince, hello,” The sugar-skinned man addressed, making the man beside him perk up. “Is your brother around?”

There was a short hum for a moment, before he could hear the bread boy call out for his sibling, using the candy royal’s name. Within seconds, Breakfast Prince was on the other end, asking, “What is it? Is it Marshall? Is he okay?”

Hit with a wave of surprise, the older man allowed a frown to settle on his lips. “He’s fine,” He explained, sparing a glance at the dark-haired man beside him, who sat cross-legged like an excited child, one hand on his companion’s leg. “He’s here with me. He wants to talk to you, but I don’t think it’s wise.”

“I agree,” The man on the other end replied, seeming almost numbed by his own words. “Thank you for letting me know he’s alright, however. I haven’t heard anything in quite some time and I’ve been worried sick.”

Swallowing the words that came out of the receiver like rocks that settled deep in his stomach, Bubba turned toward Marshall, straining to say, “What did you want me to say to him?”

“Just let him know I’m fine,” the vampire explained. “I know he was probably worried, so I wanted him to hear it.”

Feeling like a third wheel in an intimate conversation, the Candy Prince relayed the information into the phone, hoping the answer would be short so he could be done with this situation. Breakfast Prince had a different idea, however, as he gave a relieved sigh and replied with, “I’m glad. Tell him that and please also say that I’m sorry I went so far and caused him this much pain. It was never my intention to hurt him.”

The next few sentences were lost on the sugary man as the call ended and he placed the object on his bedside table, the rocks in his stomach giving way to fiery balls of magma. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what exactly the syrup-haired man had meant by _so far_ and the fact that he was one just made it all the more clear.

The way tanned skin had touched Marshall’s back after the meeting… the devious look on the tall royal’s handsome face… Their familiarity, with the vampire knowing Maple’s first name when Bubba had been under the impression that he didn’t even _have_ one…

Something within him _screamed_ in a fury he couldn’t remember feeling in a long time. It was irrational, completely unjust and in all honesty, he couldn’t fathom where it was coming from. But it was powerful and it clogged his senses, bubbling over past his safety levels and far beyond.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He was demanding before he really had a chance to think about words, earning a confused look from the older man. After a moment of clarity, he continued, realizing his words had been rather vague. “About you and Breakfast Prince?”


	9. One last breath

“Why didn’t you tell me about you and Breakfast Prince?”

Marshall seemed surprised for a moment, before he let out a half-hearted laugh. “What, Mae? Oh no, Bubs, you’ve got the wrong idea. What we’ve got is more of a friends with benefits kind of thing, we’re not dating or any of that junk. We-”

His words fell short as the hand that rested upon Bubba’s leg was suddenly grabbed around the wrist in a tight, but not painful grip. In one swift, smooth motion, the taller man grabbed hold of the vampire’s opposite shoulder and turned him, pressing him down onto the plush pillows. Before the pale man had a moment to react his companion was on top of him, their legs intertwined and his sugary face hovering inches from the older’s own.

Blue eyes gazed up at him in a numbed surprise, pale lips parted slightly as the slightest of breaths fell from them. His opposite’s own breathing came a bit more labored, strong and powerful as he gazed down at the small man beneath him, eyes so full of _life_ now and so… _beautiful_.

“Bubba…?” The vampire whispered, as meek as a shy teenager as one hand reached up to brush a finger against his shaking lips. Seconds later he reached to lick them and he tasted sweet sugar, the texture foreign on a tongue that was used to a liquid diet.

The younger offered no words, every moment that ticked on between them seeming more and more intense than the last. By now his mind was fading, giving way into a deep-seeded feeling – _jealousy_ , he realized, though he didn’t let his mind lingering on it – and a sudden craving for soft lips on his own.

Instinct kicked in and he leaned down, capturing that gentle mouth with a passionate kiss. It was the kind of kiss that declared, _you’re mine_ , the kind that left no room for argument. It came from somewhere inside and with it, all sense of reason went out the window. He didn’t let himself linger on the fact that only a small while ago he hadn’t even dreamed of doing such a thing and really, such thoughts didn’t have room in his head. All he wanted was to claim the form beneath him as his.

A surprised gasp left Marshall as soon as their lips locked, giving way only seconds later to what was almost a mewl. In the world of pain he had been in for what seemed like years, the sudden onset of pleasure that came with that simple action was enough to make him see white. This wasn’t your typical kiss… no, it was something in this spell between them that was heightening it, making his heart race as he fed it exactly what it craved.

Almost immediately he was whisked into the feeling, but when fingers slipped from his face down to his stomach, brushing up under his flannel shirt, his mind kicked in and placed a firm hand on the other’s, despite what his body craved.

Bubba’s eyes were clouded with the same intensity the vampire was feeling, but he forced himself to lock eyes with the older’s blue gaze, trying desperately to listen to the words that the man beneath him wanted so badly to say.

“Bubba…” The dark-haired man whispered, his voice husky with passion even as he tried desperately to fight it. “If we do this, there’s no going back… there’s no awkward morning after where we avoid each other until things blow over. We are _stuck_ together.” His words were full of so much truth, and yet his body protested each and every one of them. “If we do this… it’s for good.”

For a few moments, the Prince seemed to contemplate the words, letting them mull over in his mind. They were sobering, really, as he tried to imagine waking up beside the vampire, knowing what they had done. It was a step far beyond simply acknowledging the man was something more beneath the surface… it was, as Marshall had said, somewhere they couldn’t go back from.

And as he leaned back down and pressed their lips together once more, he found that he didn’t care.

Their mouths parted after a moment and he moved his instead to a pale neck, nipping at the sensitive skin and pulling sounds like music from the smaller man. Fingers grasped the shirt on his back, twisting the fabric and tugging it tight against his shoulders. For several moments the younger continued, loving the way his captive moaned and moved beneath him, arching his back to press their bodies closer.

After a bit he decided he’d had enough of that and instead began the task the King had stopped him from doing before. Inwardly hoping such a thing did not occur a second time, the sugary man’s nimble fingers began to slip tiny plastic buttons from their tiny fabric holes, making quick work of the task before his hands glided across the skin of a pale chest.

Beneath him the older was quivering, lost in a stage of euphoria as he grasped on to any part of the taller man that he could hold as if he were a lifeline. At some point his fingers made contact with the golden crown that always sat atop the Prince’s head, but one quick movement from the royal allowed the object to be placed in a safe spot on the floor.

Thankful that his own top was nothing more than a zip-up jacket and a t-shirt, Bubba slipped out of it in record time and recaptured the older man’s lips in his own, pressing their bodies together.

A thought sprang up in the back of his mind and he wondered inwardly if the spell between them was causing some sort of intense sensitivity and for some reason, the thought turned him on that much more. Deciding to test that theory, he gave an almost cruel jerk backwards, hovering over the other with their legs still entangled.

Almost immediately, Marshall let out a sensual whine, clouded eyes opening to gaze up at him in desperation. For a few moments, Bubba basked in the look, finding an inward pleasure as he gazed upon the other’s painted features, before he leaned down to press his lips to soft ones once more.

The gasp that left the vampire was euphoric, ringing in his ears and proving to him that his hunch had been true. The very idea of his touch bringing mind-numbing waves of pleasure to the other man only served to make his own body heat up and his judgment cloud completely over. He was running on pure passion now, using nimble fingers to tug at small wrists and pin them down, capturing the other’s mouth in a rougher, demanding kiss.

 _You’re mine_ , he told him again.

But a kiss wasn’t enough, oh no… he had to make it _known_. That damned syrup-haired Prince had to take one look at the pale form and _know_ who he belonged to.

Releasing both wrists into one hand – despite the fact that Marshall was in no way fighting – the candy-haired Prince gripped his chin with the other and turned his head to the side with not a spec of gentleness. Noting the way the vampire gasped out in pleasure beneath him for only a fraction of a second, the younger man leaned down and sunk his teeth deep into the other’s collar bone, just below the bite that had left him in his immortal state.

A cry of his name left the other’s throat as a small body pressed up against his own, shaking with intensity as he pulled away and wiped a few bits of blood from his mouth.

In a normal state of mind, he would have taken note of the fact that the rough wound did not heal immediately as it should have, but his body was already moving on, releasing pale wrists and moving hands instead toward a pair of thankfully baggy bottoms that he had been forced to lend the other when his far too skinny jeans had proven too difficult to slide into.

Whispers and pleas left Marshall as he tugged them down in one fluid motion. His mind threatened to halt as a sudden realization pounded at it, but the passion blocked it’s every attempt as the Prince’s sugary fingers befell sensitive skin, no room for tentative touching in the midst of their intensity.

One hand sharply took hold of a small hip as his fingers were replaced with a mouth, pulling the most beautiful sounds that he could ever remember hearing from the soft lips of the vampire King. They were stopped short, however, as he slid a tongue across the other, causing him to choke on his own mewls.

Torturing him for several moments more, the Candy Prince then decided that he couldn’t take any more, his own needs beginning to cloud his judgment as he slipped up the length of the other’s body and skillfully slid open the bedside table’s drawer, after practically gliding out of his own bottoms.

Thumbing open the top with one hand, he held out the other and poured some of the cold liquid into it, before beginning to spread it across his hands in generous amounts. To his surprise, however, a shaking grip clamped onto his wrist and he turned his gaze toward a bright blue one, full of so much _need_ that he felt his body ache for more.

“Just take me,” Marshall begged and in all of his years of existence, Bubba had never felt so turned on.

The cream on his hands was transferred to his body, a plentiful amount added to it as he readied himself, too heated to worry heavily about being gentle. The other man was, after all, _begging_ him to make the contact that they both _craved_ finally happen, the last piece of the puzzle before they could finally complete it.

There’s no going back from here, his consciousness tried to warn. This is the end.

If you do this, you’re going to have to admit things to yourself that you aren’t ready to.

But such thoughts were lost on the mind of the candy Prince as he gripped pale hips and roughly pushed himself inside of the other man, pulling a cry of both pain and pleasure from his lover as a shaking breath left his lips. The feeling was intense, the wave of euphoria that settled in his skin heightened only when the vampire whined and begged him to _keep going_!

Breathing now completely labored, the younger man angled himself in the best possible way and began a steady, but rough rhythm. Each movement brought sobs of pleasure from the small form beneath his fingertips, pale fingers clawing at his headboard in the throes of passion. Marshall seemed so small beneath him, the very idea making the Prince feel as if he were overpowering a fragile King and making his pleasure all that more euphoric.

Liking the way that was going, the sugary man changed their positions so that he was pressing the other down, hovering over him like a captive holding it’s hostage. And he could tell in an instant that the other was enjoying the change as well, blue eyes opening halfway to gaze up at him in a daze as he struggled to get air.

Releasing a pale hip with one hand, the younger reached up grip those thin wrists once more, this time rough enough to leave bruises. The touch only pulled deeper mewls from the other, however, as his back arched from pure pleasure, his entire mind lost in the moment as their bodies moved completely as one.

It was the vampire that lost it first, another cry of the Prince’s name falling from his lips before he reached his peak and spilled over, sobbing in pleasure. His lover wasn’t far behind, leaning down to capture those gasping lips in one last possessive kiss before he truly made the form pressed beneath him his own, his edge more intense than any he could remember having in the past.

For several long moments after, both men found themselves unmoving, their breathing labored as they remained connected, emotion building up to fill were the passion had once been. Eventually, it was the younger man who moved first, though really it couldn’t have been any other way… he had his captive so well pinned down that he doubted the dark-haired man could have gotten out even _with_ his added strength.

It was then, and only then, that he realized exactly what Marshall had been trying to warn him of. The urge to turn tail and run in that moment was so intense that he might have, if it weren’t for the look in the other’s blue eyes. They were spell binding, an insatiable plea for release of a different kind… one that he didn’t have in him to give.

He couldn’t admit it. He just couldn’t. Despite the absolute truth staring him straight in the face, Bubba couldn’t face it.

After lying back against the headboard, his breathing beginning to even, the taller man skillfully slipped an arm under his companion and tugged him against himself as a sort of half-hearted sign of acceptance. He wasn’t about to run away – not that he could, anyways – and bail on the situation. His companion seemed to welcome the touch after a moment, curling up against his side.

Body now thoroughly exhausted, the sugary man allowed his eyes to close and moments later slipped off to the land of dreams, inwardly fearing the moment when he awoke.

* * *

Just as Marshall Lee had feared, the following morning was extremely awkward and full of a tense silence. It was made worse by the fact that they had to be touching while he cleaned himself free of the mess they’d made, inwardly noting the oddity of his unhealed bite wound and aching backside, but chalking it up to his body still being somewhat messed up from the dying incident.

Bubba handed him a pair of loose pants before sliding into his own after they’d returned from an uncomfortable shower (on the vampire’s part) in the guest room. It was only when the taller man began to search for a comfortable top that he decided to finally speak up, his voice threatening to crack, “Bubba…” Violet eyes turned toward him and he could tell that the prince didn’t want to hear what he knew had to be said. “About last night…”

There was a pause that went on much too long before the younger man mumbled, “Don’t worry about it. We’re two adults, Marshall. There was sexual tension. It happens. I know there’s nothing else between us-”

He was cut off suddenly as the pale man cried out, intense pain shooting through his body. He reached up, gripping his chest as he stumbled forward, directly into the open arms of his captor. The bubblegum-haired man gaped down at him in alarm, clinging to him like a lifeline as he shook in agony.

“…I can’t do this anymore,” Marshall finally sobbed as the ache refused to stop, pressing himself as close to the other as he possibly could with no result. “I just… I _can’t_. Please…”

Hearing the other beg broke the other’s heart in two. He let his eyes slip shut, burying one hand into still damp hair despite his own safety. He was tired of this… they were both so tired of this! Every time something started to go good it would just end up with the older man screaming from an inner torture. This was getting to be too much and he knew it had to be stopped… and _soon_.

But he couldn’t do it… He just couldn’t bring himself to say what needed to be said.

“Bubba…?” The way the other spoke alarmed him, his voice suddenly so small as he wavered, barely able to keep his body upright. Blue eyes were half-lidded as he let out slow, shallow breaths. “Why do you hate me so much…?”

“I don’t-“ The Prince began, before he cut himself off and let out a strained sigh. “…I don’t hate you, Marshall Lee. I just…” He found himself frowning, not really sure why they were speaking of such things. But he felt like he should be honest, despite the animosity that went with the story. “…We used to be so close, when you were young. When I first found you after the war and you were all alone… I took care of you and I watched you grow. You helped me become a solid form, more than just a glob of gum. You gave me my _name_ , for gob’s sake…” He felt the heart break all over again, the very one he’d tried to push away for hundreds of years. “I watched you turn, I was there to help you go through it… I helped you fight off your blood addiction, I comforted you when your mother pushed you away…

“…And then _Ashley_ came into the picture.” A sour expression crossed his features at the name as it left a bad taste in his mouth. “You started dating her and… she _changed_ you. You became someone you weren’t, cracking jokes all the time and terrorizing people. You were _cruel_ to me because it made your girlfriend _laugh_ …

“Then you two moved in together and you stopped talking to me all together. I didn’t hear from you after that and eventually I moved on. I built a kingdom for myself, I created people like me to rule… all the while hoping you would come back into my life and we could pick back up where we left off.”

His heart broke with every word as he felt his eyes slip shut, his arms wrapping tighter around the man in his arms, though he barely felt like he was more than a ghost of a memory at this point.

“But when I saw you again, you were still that mean guy that she’d changed you into,” The Prince finished, his voice cracking. “The you I cared for was gone. So I gave up my hope and gave into my anger.”

A stillness fell between them, lasting for a few moments and making Bubba wonder if the man in his arms had lost consciousness. Just as he was about to pull away and check, however, Marshall mumbled, “I never really left you, Bubbs… I always cared about you… I still do…” And then, in that moment, he whispered the one thing that the Prince had feared from the very moment Flame Prince had first spoken to him. The last piece of the puzzle that tied it all together. “I love you…”

And then the vampire went lax in his arms, collapsing into stillness.

“…Marshall?” The younger croaked, glancing down at him as he ignored the emotions that threatened to spill over his mind. His worry escalated to terror, however, as he spotted it – the sudden spider-web wave of black that had begun to crawl up the man’s lower back from what seemed to be a bite wound.

Panic filling his senses, the sugary man scooped up his companion and stumbled over to the bed, laying him down. He felt sickness threaten to bubble up in his stomach as the darkness spread around the man’s shoulders, before crawling down his arms at a rapid rate. It swirled around, taking hold of his legs a second later and the Prince let out a sob of fear, unsure of what to do.

“I love you!” He tried, but it did nothing. He tried once more, hoping the result would be different but not surprised when it wasn’t.

It didn’t matter if it was true, he had to _believe it_.

All of those days the other man had spent in agony, those seconds he wandered the palace in pain, even those first few days where he’d gone without sleep… they’d all been out of love. He’d _killed_ his body just to see the man he cared for happy, all because he’d told Marshall he couldn’t wait to see him gone.

And he’d been so blind, denying the obvious and thinking that it just wasn’t possible that someone he’d once cared for so much could still care about him. He hadn’t allowed himself to see past the anger he still harbored after so many years of waiting.

Marshall Lee Abadeer loved him…

And oh glob, he loved the snarky snot as well.

Reaching down to lay a hand on the other man’s chest as the blackness crawled up a pale neck and across soft cheeks, Bubba spoke the words again, meaning them with every beat of his candy heart.

“I love you, Marshall Lee.”

And then the world went still.

The blackness stopped in its path, surrounding the Prince’s hand, inches from the still beating undead heart. For what seemed like hours it remained that way, before in the blink of an eye it shot forward, collecting under his palm and disappearing from the rest of the older man’s veins. Alarmed, the tall man felt tears come to his eyes as he imagined the other trapped in another state of undying, lost in this one forever.

Then he felt the pressure and seconds later his hand was being pushed from the small man’s chest with such intensity that it made him fall backward, away from the bed. As his touch pulled, a trail of black spray followed it, gushing into the air before all but disappearing like wet smoke.

Stunned for a moment, the younger man only caught himself staring when his companion let out a small groan and blinked blue eyes open, dazed slightly but still very much _alive_.

“Marshall!?” Bubba called, rushing toward his side and reaching for him. To his surprise, however, the King held up a hand to stop him, struggling to sit himself up as he reached a pale hand up and rested it on his chest.

“…It doesn’t hurt,” Marshall whispered in a dumbfounded surprise, his voice cracking. After a moment, his featured twisted into confusion as he fell back against the bed. “ _Beef_ , man, it doesn’t _hurt_!”

A shaking sob of relief left the Prince then, earning a surprised and confused look from the man he cared for. Not bothering to offer any explanation, the candy man reached out and pulled his pale-skinned companion to his chest, holding him as close as possible.

“I thought I was going to lose you…” He choked, burying his face into damp hair and allowing the sugary tears to flow freely. “I thought you were gone. I…”

“You love me…” The older mumbled, cutting in only as the silence fell. The realization hit him hard and for a few moments he sat there, allowing himself to be held, before a small smirk crossed his lips. “I _told_ you you wanted me.”

“Honesty!” The younger cried out of habit, though he was more relieved than anything to hear a joke come from someone he’d nearly lost. After letting out a strained breath he pulled away, giving the other a quick glance up and down to make sure he was _real_ before he frowned. “The bite mark… on your neck…”

“Huh?” Marshall asked, reaching up to touch the spot where the fresh wound had been. He expected smooth skin, guessing that the other’s words had been ones of disappointment as his possessive mark disappeared… but to his surprise he found a scar in its place, fully healed but just as visible as the one that had turned him. “Beef, man… How did that happen?”

“The venom must have soured up your healing abilities,” Bubba stated, reaching a hand up to brush his fingers over the other’s skin. “When it left, your vampire blood probably tried to heal the wound but there was just enough of the venom left in your system to leave a scar.”

Humming for a moment, the vampire then grinned sheepishly, giving his eyebrows a wiggle. “You like it.”

Flushing violet, the Prince grabbed a nearby pillow and tossed it into his loved one’s face. “Shut up, Marshall Lee!”

…He _did_ like it, though.

 

 

**Epilogue**

Fionna let out an excited cheer as the door opened and two of her best friends entered, the fact that they were no longer touching as much of a relief to her as any she could imagine. Bursting into a big grin, Marshall Lee sprang forward through the air and scooped her up into a tight hug, lifting her from the floor and spinning her.

“Fi!” He cried in delight, earning a laugh from her pink lips.

“It’s great to see you, Mar!” The girl declared as she was placed on the floor once more. The vampire then turned his attention to the man standing at almost twice her height at her side, tanned skin and syrup hair as much a delight as his human companion.

“Mae!” The pale man declared, allowing himself to be pulled into a strong hug. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too,” Breakfast Prince replied with a coy smile as he released the vampire and made note of the look of absolute jealousy that crossed the man behind him’s features. “So you _finally_ told him, huh?”

“You too!?” The blonde girl at his side cried in delight, earning a surprised look from the Candy Prince before them. “Jeeze, Mar told me _ages_ ago that he was into you, Peej! I kept telling him to just come out and say it, but he didn’t have the guts!”

“Er…” Bubba managed, turning to look at his dark-haired love, who conveniently avoided his eyes. “How long have you known…?”

“I dunno, like…” Fionna hummed for a moment, pressing a finger to her lip. “…Six months?”

“Almost two years,” Mae admitted, earning a rough smack to his arm that made him smirk at the vampire beside him. “I’m just being honest.”

Tempted to snap out a, _and were you sleeping with him the entire time?_ , Bubba decided instead to simply frown at Marshall, who reached up to rub the back of his neck with a guilty smile.

“Yeah, well…” He mumbled. “I’m terrible with feelings and junk. And besides, I was pretty sure you hated me, so…”

“Well it looks like he doesn’t,” the syrup-haired man chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “At least, judging by that mark on your neck…”

Bubba flushed a deep purple and Marshall copied him, earning a round of hysterical laughter from Fionna and a devious grin from Maple. The two lovers then looked toward each other and shared a small, almost invisible smile, comforted by the idea that things, from there, would be much easier.


End file.
